Category: 08th

What Pollution Could Become

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

Me Too

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

Candy Bars

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

A Poem About What?

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

Rhyming

Rhyming is overrated.
Rhyming poems are childish and dated.
Free verse is far superior.
Rhymes are often so much drearier.

I say we extinguish the rhymes
We’ve used them on too many times.
Free verse is for the more artistic,
An art system that is truly mystic.

Rhymes are childish and creative,
Free verse is so spectacular and imaginative
Rhymes are tasteless they’ve out done their use,
Free verse is powerful, complex, and abstruse.

Children make rhymes, they’re old and tasteless,
Free verse are convoluted, elaborate, and audacious.
The definition of art is the application of skill and ability.
Free verse poems show my artistic agility.
Not some poem with rhyming, that’s easy!
Free verse is so intricate we only covered it briefly.

Murchison

8

Sam

Sam was supposed to be small,
But that was not the case at all.

Even though San is so diggity
We treat him with much cordiality.

He can almost jump the fence
he treats my dad with much eminence.

Without him our family is not complete.
He can run so fast he is practically an athlete.

Sam is really great,
To live with us is his fate.

Murchison

8

change

we, humans, walk around the earth with no regards for anyone or anything. we stomp around like elephants with no care.
selfish beings, we want everything to ourselves. we are all hypocrites, but the worst kinds of humans are the ones that think they are not in any wrong. the ones that think they do no wrong.
be the human you want everyone to be. be the change.

St. Mark Lutheran School

Eighth

Letting Go

Have you ever just wanted
To let go to not be here
That the feeling you have
Makes you feel miserable and not loved
That the thing you want
Could be deadly but you hold back

That feeling that you’re hated
Nor loved but also abandoned by everyone
You feel like it’s over
You imagined a world without you there
You think they will be happy
Because you know it’s a way out

In the end it’s truly
Extremely sad when it comes to that
Point in your life when
When you have made the choice to
End it all for yourself
Because you know that suicide’s right there

Postscript from DaneS’s mom:

He wrote it for all the people who feel bad but don’t have a voice to share. He did not write it about how he feels.

Perhaps his poem will spur conversation and let some child know there are others who struggle like they do and reach out.”

Murchison

8