Category: 07th

2037

It was time
Everyone is coming back
There was one house
And in that houses yard
Was a trombone
Sparkling in the beautiful sun
It was very vague who had lived there
But when you get closer
You will find a frame
With a happy family
And a girl with a trombone in hand
When you move closer
There is a shattered picture of a little girl
With a smile as large as space
In the backyard a swimming pool
Surrounded by a overgrown garden
With gorgeous, yet dead roses
Floating in the swimming pool
Is a stuffed bear
With the year 2006 sewn into its foot
Everyone wonders who lived there
Until later that day
Drives up a red Suburban

Bailey Middle School

07

Where Is Mama?

Mama and I started walking
And we were talking too
We went to see the big white ships
Their horns, the sound so blue
She lifts me up to see
The big one and how it soars
And then I hear it loud and clear
The horn that sounds like roars
Mama sets me down
And we start to walk
And then we see lots of birds
As they fly in a flock
We go to the ships to see Papa
I smell the ocean blue
It’s been so nice living here
And Papa’s hat looks new
I turn around to hug Papa
And see his old, rusty, ship
I look around and see the spot
Where Mama broke her hip
I run outside to hug her
But she’s no longer there
I turn around to tell Papa
But all that’s left is air
I look around in the dark
And wonder, Where is Mama?
I wake up startled and notice
I’m just in my pajama
There are no boats, no fresh air breeze
Just me in my bed
I look around and then recall
That Papa has been dead
His ship has sank down, down deep
Somewhere in the tide
I feel my face once wet with tears
That now have finally dried
I go to Mama for comfort
And she is there for me
Once we wake from our slumber
I want to go to sea
She takes me there
And we pack our snacks
So we can eat
Down by our shack
We get there fast hand and hand
Our walking is in sync
When we get to the sea
I have to stop and think
Mama and me are okay
No matter what’s the case
We have each other’s love and care
And we’re in the right place.

Fulmore Middle School

7th

It’s a Passion

Whooshh

Down the field it goes

Dribble, Pass, Shoot, Score!

If it was only that easy

People don’t understand
The Sweat
The Tears
The Blood
The Cramps of your working muscles

All those practices,
So much running you might even passout
“Get on the line” he demands
‘Line’ makes you hate math even more than you already did

You struggle to gain a new skill
To prove to Coach that you should be the starting lineup
Not Her

Why,
Why do the coaches make you compete with your best friends
Push each other off the ball,
Push each others back,
until one of us claims victory

Aren’t friends supposed to have each others back,
Guess when your on the field it doesn’t matter,
That is why you train 8 times a week,
Doesn’t make sense, Huh

One Practice to Another.
With Excitement,
With Exhaustion,
Most Importantly With Passion

You choose your story
But, You leave your leagacy

Gorzycki

7

Blue birds

Birds are all cool
If you think different
You are a fool
Trees and grass
blue birds
aren’t to brass
you should think about
how every bird but a blue bird shouts
no no no this isn’t your typical bird
bird is the word
bunnies eat carrots
and this bird is a parrot.

Gorzycki

7

Piquancy

The words were syrupy
Coating the inside of her mouth
With a tender sweetness
It was indistinguishable
Unlike any other piquancy
she let the sugar coated mess of words
Deceive her
For after it is dried up
All she has left is
The rope of reminisce she clings to
Her hands red
As the sky
When the sun leaves its midst
She has only the cloying aftertaste
Boiling in her mouth
Yet even then she would still choose
To taste
The bittersweet mass again
She still recalled
The way her mouth danced to form the
Simple
Yet powerful words
“I love you”

Gorzycki

7th

Colorblind

I wish to distinguish color from color,
Feeling mood from
Beautiful visuals that induce emotion.

I cannot experience the calm, serene hue of blue
No feeling of peace and tranquility.
Non-existent to me are cloudless skies and gloomy rain
That leave me with sorrow as I will never see this color.

Confusion is overwhelming as I mentally mix different shades of brilliant red,
An energy full of power, love, and danger which I fail to perceive.
Gone are roses and blood
I’m engulfed in rage for I will never see this warmth.

I jump at the slightest possibility of happiness,
Deceived by the false spirit of optimism,
Silenced by the absence of the sun and bananas
I’m blinded by the enlightenment I want to contact desperately.

I wish to distinguish color from color,
Feeling mood from
Beautiful visuals that induce emotion.

Gorzycki Middle School

7

The last day

Was march 25, 1911
Parents dropping off their daughters at work
Not knowing that will be the last time they’ll see each other
A waist basket went up in flames
Then one after another the building blew up in flames

Shivering screams were heard far and wide
As women and children jumped out
Fire trucks wailed their sirens
As they tried to help
Six of the 146 were not identified

Years later, happiness enters the air
Names were read of all who died
All 146 were identified
No one was not recognized
It was a tragedy with a smile

Seams

Your smile is the definition of beauty
Your eyes like a pair of stars
When you laugh birds begin to sing
And I know
Your mind is bursting at the seams
With dreams

Your heart is kind enough for me
Your voice brings sunbeams to the Earth
When you approach I flutter
And you know
I believe you will do great things
With your mind that is bursting at the seams
With dreams