Author: Matthew

Look around, up at the sky
A nauseating blend of gray and black
Smoke everywhere
It’s hard to see anything through the haze
A haze of uncertainty.

Try to remember the freedom of clean air
Breathe in
Cough out the stale stench of smoke
The smell of a busy industry
No time for the environment
Taken for granted

A tree can only be described as a majestic
It is not only a home, but a habitat
Some, with flowers bursting with color
Now any tree left
Has withered into a short stump
No longer is it bursting with life
The flowers have fallen to the ground
Their time forgotten
No water left to nourish them

The water is no longer a tantalizing blue
No longer are there gentle, lapping waves in the ocean
No longer is a body of water as reflective as a mirror
Now tehre is only harsh currents of mud left
Swimming through the little water that remains
Bits of plastic trash
Glinting through the grimy haze of the ocean
Cans, nets, and gass
Nowhere else to go

A green earth wasted.

Murchison

8

Ode to the ice cream truck
The truck is white as snow
Yet hard as a rock
As everybody would pass by
A man would give out a freezing
item
Everybody would line up
It was so cold it would shatter your
teeth
So many different flavors
You could mix and match
Yet so cold it had to melt
And the mysterious man had to
leave
And so must the freezing truck
But comes back everyday
Sometimes with something new
Would taste better than the last time
Lines for miles
Desperate as if we were starving
Hot as hell outside
Begging for ice cream

On top of our knees
And we all get what we want

Kealing Middle School

7th

Me too, a silence breaker
For equal rights is all we ask
The cold shoulder is a common response
For such a simple request

Not too much to ask
Just to be equal, common courtesy
In a world where we can make things fly
But don’t respect human rights

Murchison

8

Another day I’ve waited here,
in horror, hunger, thirst, and fear.

Another day awaiting the German Army’s fall,
pleading for the glorious mercy call.

Another day trapped inside the barbed wire,
Stranded with violence, blood, and gunfire.

Another day with the same shirt on my back,
though it’s torn, filthy, and striped white and black.

Another day mourning the numerous deaths
of innocents begging for just one more breath.

Another day without freedom or joy,
as powerless as a marionette toy.

Another day I’ve waited here,
voiced by adherence but silenced by fear.

Lamar Middle School

6th

Candy bars are just so yummy,
But they tend to be unhealthy
They don’t really give you that much energy,
And they also can be sticky.

These candy bars are just so attractive,
But they don’t really make you active.

When I go outside I feel like it’s EVERYWHERE.
Every Day.
Every Month.
Every Year.
So it feels like I’m breathing heavy AIR.

Candy Bars. Candy Bars. Candy Bars.
I see all these kids just eating them with that sound
So I try to find them but they’re nowhere to be FOUND.

Murchison

8

Churning, crashing like a thundering storm,
slipping through ricks as if sand through fingers.
Then tumbling down making a fluffy foam.
Mist spreads creating a gentle fog.

Bright colors are everywhere changing and blooming.
Flowers shine brighter than stars.
When you are there it speaks to you,
it sings a nice calming sing.

The sky starts to change,
the sun begins to set.
Crickets chirp a sweet good night,
before everything goes to bed.

As it turns to night the water glows in the moonlight.
Shadows fall over bushes and rocks.
You hear silence except for the rumble of the falls.

Lamar Middle School

6th

I’m having a bit of trouble
Should I make a poem about bubbles
There are just way too much options
Maybe a poem filled with action
Wait I have a conclusion
I could just do one about illusions
I could make the words seem larer
Wouldn’t this make me seem smarter
I will never finish this
It’s probably going to end up in a abyss
This may never bee seen again
It’s just going to be in my brain
This is way too much trouble
I’m just going to make it about bubbles

Murchison

8

Dribbling down the court
Crossover the defender
Scoring the basket
As it falls the crowd erupts
The clock goes out with a buzz

Murchison

8

Rush of the wind, crunch of a tire
Pedaling fast down the hilly trail
The sound of fluttering flutters past
All the colors in the distance
Curious, pedaling faster
Colors so bright
Slowing to see it better
Wide eyes, each feather unique in a different color of
the rainbow
Gazing until it flutters off in a riot of color

Lamar Middle School

6th

It is a commitment,
It is a challenge,
It is a team,
It is hard,
It is dedication,
It is fun,
It is a race,

It is an accomplishment

Murchison

8