Category: 2018-19 Submissions

Why does the
black teen have to watch his back every second he looks back meanwhile you see these white kids not have to worry about a gun to their back. Why do we accept there’s gonna be a better life cause the truth is that if there was one then it would have changed by now
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Why does the young Latino have to worry about his family being taken away every second of his day.
Why does the 7 year old girl have to hear her teacher say go to Mexico in her ear .
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This is a war, a social cancer if it was gonna change then someone would have had the answer.

Why do people look at a black person and assume that their a part of a gang maybe they just want to hang
and be who they are for a day cause come Monday their expected to talk like someone their not, walk like someone their not , and be someone their not

People say white people talk “better” but really if we go back blacks talk like that cause the whites
Would not let blacks learn to read or write and made us think that all our life we were gonna stay in fright
in fright that we would never
Take our talents to the top

We need to start looking up to the light and getting our heads screwed on right.Why do we have to fight for a better life when these should be human rights.

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Russell Lee Elementary

6

Acuario soy yo navegando en el aire
Observando mi alrededor para encontrar aventuras
Pero todo lo que miro es un triste mundo
que se está desmoronando

Acuario soy yo, tímida y callada
Embotellando emociones
Y expresándolas cuando no hay nadie

Acuario soy yo, con la cabeza en las nubes
Bloqueando todo a mi alrededor
Pensando acerca de la vida que tenemos

Acuario soy yo, incomprendida por el mundo
Me siento como un marciano
Tratando de ser entendida por el mundo

Acuario soy yo, amable con todos
Viendo todo lo bueno y lo malo en todos
Dándo segundas oportunidades a todos

Acuario soy yo, viendo cómo la vida pasa
Jugando el juego que es la vida con los demás
Tratando de acabar el juego para estar en paz

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James Bowie High School

11

I am known as the cow who refused
because of my leadership and refuge
it all started on slaughter day
and I will tell you my story if I may

The farmer came up to me and said, “You’ll make some good meat!”
“Is he calling me fat?” I mooed in grief
I got mad and kicked him as hard as I could
and he went flying in a pile of wood!

Now cows are ruling the world and will never retreat!
and if you try and stop us we’ll cook you into human meat!

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Fern Bluff Elementary

5

Deep in the pearly moon,
Is a vast, endless place
Where heaven is entangled with earth.
And where love is born,
Where time is limitless.
And when I gaze into the moon,
It unleashes a swarm of butterflies from the depths of my heart.
Deep in the pearly moon,
Is a range of celestial mountains.
A range of mountains that would leave even the gods speechless,
And she lulls my heart with her hyms,
Pulling me closer and closer
Her song mixing with my dreams
Pulling me closer and closer.
We both lay on the grass looking up
With smores in our hands,
And wish this moment could last forever.

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Pearson Ranch Middle School

7

They think they know me
They don´t
They try to see me
They can’t
I feel alone, and invisible

I will see people around me,
See them smiling,
Enjoying, laughing,
Something I can’t seem to do anymore.

No one knows,
No one sees,
No one truly can.
I feel blank and invisible.

I pretend,
I act,
I try not to show,
Who is hidden,
In me.

No one tries,
No one’s eyes,
Are showing
Secrets,
And nothingness,
Like mine.

They think they know me,
They don´t,
They try to see me,
They can’t
I feel nothing.
I’m invisible.

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Pearson Ranch Middle School

7

She felt like a wildfire that had never been burned, she was spreading bigger and bigger hurting everyone everywhere. She felt like she destroyed everything in sight meandering throughout the world. She wanted to put her own flame out, but she was powerless, instead, she became her own worst enemy.

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Pearson Ranch Middle School

7

You’re as brave as a soldier!
You’re prettier than a flower!
You have love as strong as a bull!
When you walk in a room you brighten it up!
You will always be my grandpa no matter what!
Whenever we want something, you always get it.
It it’s our turn to put you first!
Everyone who loves you is holding your hand!

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Fern Bluff Elementary

4

Tho on land I may no longer be
I can see a cornfield on the sea
stripes of plankton occur and green seem to fulfill
the cotton fields white crested will
The deep blue water dips and sways
Imitating hill countries curvy ways
the rustle of wind through grass does weave
to the ears, the waves do as much to please
Snapper flesh like a bluegill tastes
I can devour them with no less haste
No matter what I may do or see
It all still feels like Texas to me

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Westwood

12

Whenever I’m asked who I am, I falter
I freeze and I stutter, then I take a step back
2, 3, 4 steps back, and I turn around and run
Run to the recesses of my mind
The internal sandbox of sand and good excuses
Dig out the words I can use to cover my bruises
Something like “I don’t know”
Or “Ha ha, woah!”
That’s deep. I don’t know.

Though I don’t see why
I can at least try

I’m an optical illusion
I think I work this way but the real me works that way,
I’m a plane on a runway
I know, with 89% confidence, how to get from point A to point B
But I’ll never take off, that’ll never be me,
I’m a spaceman, a lost cosmonaut flung across isolated dimensions
across deserts of dying stars, with nothing to do but pray for absolutions
or a mercy that’s more permanent, more final…
I tell myself I am these things but I don’t know. This is hard.

This won’t be the poem where I tell you what I like
The truth is, I’m boring, and there’s not much I really dislike
This won’t be the poem where I tell you what I’m scared of
The truth is, the only thing that haunts me is me, what I’m made of
This won’t be the poem where I tell you why…
Why I love the rain but watching it from the window makes me cry…

And I’m sorry if I talk quietly or I mumble,
Or if this isn’t good enough,
But the truth is, when you’re so scared or ashamed of what you can do,
Or what you have done
You get shaky when you’re asked “who are you”?

Who are you?
Who are you? Speak up.
What’s wrong with you?

I was born suspended in water
In the rain on an island in the sea
From the day I was born, I wasn’t free

My parents brought me to the world
They gave me love, then they imprisoned me
I wasn’t free
Early on, I learned that everything had a cost
Mine came in the form of promises to my father
Obligations to Dad

He told me,
Our love brought you here, so you can’t be a painter
Can’t make animation or movies
Can’t write novels or scripts
The world has enough artists
If you want to be a creator, then go create money
You don’t need these dreams, there’s promise in stability

He told me,
You can’t bring us shame
You can’t tarnish our name
You can choose who you want to love
But on your wedding, the day of
I will not pretend to care
I promise I won’t be there
This is not a negotiation
There will be no more discussion

He told me,
My opposition is a felony
The quiet rebellions I commit make me a criminal
And like a criminal, I should be tucked away,
Contained behind a curtain of steel rods

I am not free.
I am not free.
But in indentured servitude, I subsist
In hidden pastimes I resist
I choose to create things. I draw and I write
I continue loving my boyfriend with all of my might
Because this is how I fight
Some part of me still wants to fight
But is this right? Will I be alright?
Some part of me still wants to fight, punch back, retaliate, engage!
But the larger part of me wants to crawl back to my cage…

In the sun I ignore, but at night I lay on the floor, my body so sore
My mind swelling like a boil
A pocket of pink wire knotted and tangled
Agitated and inflamed, bloating my head
Overflowing with thoughts, conflicted
Emotions, unchecked
Insanity, in effect

I’m Frankenstein’s monster: evil and scared, evil or scared

I resent things, I envy others,
I lash out, I hurt people,
I am malicious and a liar
I’m a serpent in the fire

I didn’t weep
I smiled and went back to sleep
When I was told he was in an accident
On the highway, a car with a crater, a dent
Despair in the house, why did they lament?
He didn’t die
He’s on standby
Right there, downstairs
Unscratched, limbs in both pairs
Still the warden of my jailhouse
Still the father of a mouse

Quiet, small, weak
A mouse.

I act like a fool but I follow the rules
I dance with defiance but hide my riots
Because my opposition is a felony
The quiet rebellions I commit make me a criminal
And I don’t know who I am,
I just… I just know I don’t want to be bad

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Cedar Ridge High School

12