your vision, your voice
Flowers fluttering to the floor
There
A beautiful child is born
A perfect being with hair of silk
Whose eyes are as creamy as the lightest milk
Born in a land corrupted by gilt
Safe for now in a homemade quilt
But corruption is creeping
And all joy is fleeing
This pure little child
Is no more
The purest hearts now stained by blood
This innocence has been undone
CD Fulkes Middle School
8
It feels like you were just here
But now you’re gone
Losing you was my worst fear
You were just here but now you’re just ashes
I can’t believe you’re gone
My tears are still stained to my eyelashes
I told you it was ok to leave
How can you be gone?
I never thought about how much I would grieve
In your last days you couldn’t speak to me
I wish you weren’t gone
Not being able to hear your voice one last time will always sting
I hope you heard me on the phone telling you it’s ok to let go
It still hurts that you’re gone
I just wish there was a way that you could let me know
From time to time I will still cry
It’s ok that you’re gone
I’m just glad you’re not in pain anymore even if it meant you had to die
Sometimes I will still feel a bit blue
You will never be completely gone
Even after crying I will still smile because…
I have the memory of you
CD Fulkes Middle School
8
Heart Break makes your insides suffer.
Broken pieces of you until the very last piece
Heart Break never ends.
It takes youto a places whereone feels a deep stab
Heart Break brings out darkness to all.
Pain will be received by a look or feel
Heart Break brings out the worst creature in you.
CD Fulkes Middle School
8
Rain
Cold, Wet, Tears
Falling from the heavens above
A place we do not know
A place the living dare not go
A place where the rain subsides
As the warm sun glows
It fills our oceans
Its fills out eyes
It fills our minds
It soaks our clothes
It soaks out air
It soaks our hearts
Rain
Cold, Wet, Tears
Falling from the heavens above
A place we do not know
CD Fulkes Middle School
8
Sometimes the sun
is too bright
And too far
To follow.
Sometimes a rose
Is too small
And too pitiful
To pick.
And sometimes I see better
By the light of the moon
And dance easier
On the green, green grass.
When I look up I’d like
To see stars and a sky
So dark it could
Swallow me whole.
And when I lay still
I hear crickets
Wondering aloud
If they’ll ever get home.
Fulmore Middle School
8
Light fog above the dawning horizon
Like steam slowly rising from my coffee
Stationary on the table
As I look out at the slowly rising sun.
Later, I’ll wander small alleys and crowded markets
As the sun shines above me glistening
The streets and the water
Like a melting pot of old and new.
My eyes will light the scene
Of freshly baked pastry in windows,
Museum masterpieces right there
While people live their daily lives here.
It feels like home to sit and drink coffee
And imagine the place I’ve never lived
But have always loved.
With art, language, and nature
With beauty, strangers, and myself.
Fulmore Middle School
8
3:49pm
Almost time
For me to meet
My parents.
The more I see
The signs the more
Nervous I get, butterflies
In my stomach
Like I really need a restroom.
A man introduces us
And I look around the house
So many beautiful colors
Blue, yellow, green
Everything was new
Everything I wanted.
The best part: windows
To see the bright blue sky
And the green lemon tree
Outside, the best view.
It smelled like paint,
But in a good way
All this time
They lived in Texas
And I lived in Mexico,
Separated for so long.
The next day
I tried pancakes
For the first time,
So weird and chewy,
But also soft and sticky
With syrup on top.
Everyone wanted to meet me
And my brother
And it was loud
But I knew it was
The right place for me.
Fulmore Middle School
8
I hear a “thump” as I bump
The ball beautifully over the net.
I hear “mine” as the other team
Runs for the ball. I watch, waiting.
I hear her foot kick the floor
Slow motion to the ground.
Loud “oohs” come from the crowd
And cheers when she gets up.
The ball rolls over “titter tatter”
And it’s my turn to serve,
Hands shaking I hear my heart
Beating as I bounce the ball
“Wham” as it nicks the net
But goes over.
Back and forth until I hear
A whistle blow and the slap
Of high-fives as the phrase
rings in my ear:
Good game
Good game
Good game.
Fulmore Middle School
8
Change
Happens slowly
One drop, then two
Eventually hundreds, thousands
All coming down from the sky.
One hits a rock
Bounces off
Onto the ground
Wanders a little farther
And stops
Another follows
Then another
In a year, there will be
A small groove
Running through the ground
Filling with more water
When it rains.
A century passes
River taking shape
As every drop of water
Bends the land around it.
It takes time
For the river
To grow strong
Water rushes
Flows
Glides
Down the riverbend.
Fulmore Middle School
8
On the hot cement sidewalks
Where the pitter patter of their paws
And the clinking of their nails
Creates a constant rhythm
Announcing “wer’re coming!”
The sun follows us, beats down
Oppressive and still
As if it were watching us
High up from space
And as we walk, time feels
Stretched like a rubber band.
Until our house comes into view
In the distance
And so does the end of our walk.
Fulmore
8