When Will People Realize? 2.75/5 (4)

When will people REALIZE?
Realize that abandoning someone hurts.
When will people feel REMORSE?
Remorse for leaving someone behind.

Shutting, shutting, shutting doors
BAM.
Another tear cried.
Another child abandoned.

When will people HURT?
Hurt for the pain they’ve caused before .
When will people THINK?
Think of the trust issues they’ve caused.

A child’s cry to their mother.
When is daddy coming home?
Never the mom replies holding back tears.
He chose to shut that door long ago.

A child’s cry to their father.
When is momma coming home?
Never the father says through clenched teeth.
She couldn’t put down the needle.
The drugs shut the door for her.

Shutting, shutting, shutting doors
BAM.
Another tear cried.
Another child abandoned.


W. Charles Akins High School

11

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One More Time 4/5 (4)

One more time
One more hit

I said I would stop
I said prison changed me

I said I would do it for the kids
I said I would do it for my family

Now I sit begging for another dose
Heroine
Meth
Speed
Cocaine
Why do you control my life?

One more time
One more hit

Sirens blare
Police men yell

My instinct tells me to run
My instinct tells me to hide

On my knees I sit
On my knees I am cuffed

4
5
6
7 times

How many times will I visit prison again?
Heroine
Meth
Speed
Cocaine
Why do you control my life?

One more time
One more hit

My eyes roll
My eyes close

Overdose takes over
Overdose takes me

Now I’m gone
There won’t be another time
There won’t be another hit


W. Charles Akins High School

11

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If childhood had a flavor,

It would not be this: Scraping
shards of glass into a dustpan
Dim lightbulbs
spit out a
warm light. Sticky, sour,
fermented lemonade
mixed with sweat,
a bottle shaped dent
In the dirt-brown tile.
It would be: Blue
buttercream frosting
sticking to your tongue, swallowed
sodapop still fizzing,
fingerpaints still staining hands,
even after three or four washes,
like the faded glow
of a nightlight
you’ve already turned off.
Still, I can’t get
the bitter citrus out of me,
Even after three washes.


James Bowie High School

11

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Suburbia

There’s something
no one ever talks about when
they’re in suburbia.

It’s supposed to be a
flawless middle class union, half
metro, half marsh,

but steel edges
of silver silos and skyscrapers
teeter on tearing

the fragile fabric
of the starless almost-city sky.
You hear it most

nights when the
street racers wrench through
pitch highways

and the crickets
punch the identical houses’
plywood shutters.

You hear it when
there’s yelling next door, one
half matrimony,

one half the
inescapably loud swarm
of change.


James Bowie High School

11

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Unearth

I don’t want to pray for forgiveness
like I’m pinned by the wings
to God’s corkboard.
But when the iron in my blood
is towed toward the magnet that is
her in her
sunny Sunday best, I don’t stop myself
from choking on the
Lord’s Prayer.
Instead,
I indulge my shame.
Like a sleepy child
I’ll never want,
it yawns
for frivolous things,
like fragrant rose bouquets,
or monotonous love.
I ignore the tired requests that
I need to answer.
Only I can unearth up my roots, hidden
in the tangled churchyard.
Only I can sever the rubber bands
that I tentatively snap against my heart,
but I have lost both
the shovel and
the patience.
Trying to dig gets me nothing
but dirt under my nails and
empty hands. Stubborn
(or maybe even divine)
intuition
say that if there is
anything left
of who I am inside,
it is years
from being covered
by wedding gowns and
tiny, blue swaddling clothes. Still,
what I wouldn’t give for a frivolous thing,
like a sham love,
or a heart
that didn’t want to hide.


James Bowie High School

11

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Memorobilia

Observe how he
presses his hand on
her lower back,
guiding her through
their shared workspace.

See how she hands him
her tattered sweater and
he stops shivering,
even though
it’s filled with holes.

If you squint,
you can see it in him,
carrying her
bobby pins in the front pocket
of his shirt at a party
while she dances
with someone else.
Think about these things.

Feel their weight:
the gentle palm,
the striped sweater,
the copper pins.

Feel their weight
and know:

Love is not things,
you do not carry it with you.
Still, find this
secondhand embrace in
the memorabilia of
someone else’s love.


James Bowie High School

11

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For You 3.75/5 (4)

To your mother –
your father –
your sisters.
To me.

Your soul enlightened each and every day.
A soul too eager;
too intellectual –
too beautiful.

I saw the way you felt;
about life –
graceful, everchanging.
About the universe-
unsuspecting, unreasonable.

You cherished
creativity through voice.
Your expression,
determination.

We used to talk
talk about things we barely understand:
nirvana –
love and happiness –
sadness.

We agreed:
we had no idea where
we would end up.
It didn’t matter.

As long as there was
love,
enjoyment;
in every fiber of our being.
Through every action
of every day we lived.

You loved the idea of
starting over.
Moving on to a new life
encompassing contentment;
hope.

You let yourself fill with
discontent,
indignation.
Only seen,
if you allowed.

It built up,
compressed,
petrified.
But you never let it out.

I wish you would have let it burst.
I wanted you to let it explode
and pour out of your mind.
Like sand –
release the weight inside.

Yet instead,
you tied a knot.
One that will never be undone.
sand turned into rocks
and pulled you to the bottom of the ocean.

You would never let
emotions;
taint how you loved the world.
Instability;
dull the flame inside you.

The perfect release,
you found your nirvana.
Expelled beauty through your existence
and the world soaked it up.

When folding clouds roll
across a rose and lavender
stained sky.

When the moonlight
tears the ocean in half;
and the waves try to heal themselves.

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Memory 5/5 (2)

Orange trees
painted white one-third
of the way up,
supposedly to keep the ants
and scorpions
from indulging.

I never believed that.

The smell of chlorine
punctured the air,
and the water evaporated within
seconds
of touching the pavement.

Running barefoot.
Black-bottom feet, impervious to the gravel
below.

We were always barefoot.

Peanut butter sandwiches
on potato bread washed
down by bitter iced tea
soaked up the heat.

There was no such thing as “sweet” tea.

Skin so tan,
almost the same shade
as the dirt;
hair so bleached,
almost as pale
as the sun’s glare.

We never used sunscreen.

An endless 12 foot deep pool
held ultimate diving contests
from the once-blue
diving board;

goggles and water wings never forgotten.

Laying on rafts with cupholders,
blankly gazing
into the everlasting
azure sky.
We made up stories as the temperature

rose to 112 degrees.

The heat makes the day
glide through honey;
roads release
apparitions and cars


Bowie HS

11

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Society’s Outcast

Red clashed with yellow.
Blue clashed with white.

Clouds
unfinished
thoughts of white and grey
floated across
the sky
like a herd
of castaways.

Trees of all races
stood exhausted
in their kingdoms
of grass.

Leaves of all ethnicities
scattered
to the ground.

Grey staled the pale
aged concrete
placed without meaning
carelessly.

A rainbow of wrappers
flee’d their bonds of death
clinging to the freedom
of nature.

The light breath
of a warm winter
strained against
the arms of the trees.

And there
opposed to social norms
scattered the inhabitants
of higher standing.

Colors only matched in the eyes
of complexity.

Movements could never be
understood
by the simplicity of nature.

Yet everything seemed connected.

Where do I fit in?


Bowie High School

11

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The truth on life(Star wars poem) 0/5 (1)

Life will not always be a pretty picture, life is sometimes filled with great conflicts that bring chaos into our world these conflicts are sometimes created by people that are sometimes misled. These people are sometimes confused and troubled, these people are at times filled with hate, and anger over lost loved ones and more so are filled with fear. Fear is the devil himself waiting to see you fail. He is waiting to see you give up, he is waiting to take the life and soul that God created for you. You must conquer your fears, for fear will get you nowhere, trust your instincts, Embrace the life that God has given you. Embrace your family, Embrace your environment and surroundings, Embrace your friends but keep your friends close and your enemies closer. For sometimes your enemies will sometimes led you to the truth and your inner peace. Who is the wisest man is it the one who fights for unwise and greedy reasons. Or is it the one who fights for justice, honesty and truth for his family. The wisest man is the one that will do absolutely anything to protect his family, he is the one that may be average but he is not afraid to stand up for himself and for his family. A real man stands up for himself and a real man will also stand up for others. In order to conquer your fears and hate you must learn to forgive and let go of what happened in the past. You must also learn to forgive the ones that caused great pain for you and betrayed you. You must learn to Embrace God and the things he has created for you. Embrace and cling to your future let go of what happened in the past, for the past might have been bad for you but your past does not make you who you are. Although you may not see it but in the eyes of God you are a great person, it is never too late to mend your ways. Know that despite all the horrible things you did that were wrong. If you yourself admit to God that what you did was wrong, God will forgive you, but you yourself must learn to forgive yourself and know that there is good in you and in the eyes of God as well. Every mortal on this earth is responsible for their own destiny, you are who you choose to be, cherish your life for it does have meaning in it. You may not at first discover your importance but God will help you discover who you are. More so he will help you to find your destiny, Embrace God and what he has given you, and God will be their to guide you on the right path of good.

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