YASIERA GOWDY
8th GRADE
MOTHER
Man, you always say my room’s never clean!
Oh, that’s mean.
That’s why I cleaned it, and you see
How clean
Everything was
Rather than dirty.
BRANDON WILLIAMS
7th GRADE
Calling people at 3 in the morning.
Really annoys other people.
Always in other people’s business.
Zero friends.
“Y am I so lonely?”
ARIANA Guzman
8th GRADE
MY BOOKS
My bookshelf, filled to the brim
With my closest friends.
My portals to other worlds.
I reread them over and over again,
And talk to them, telling them my secrets.
Telling them I want to jump into the plot,
and live with the main characters.
HPAC Young Writers Review
Sometimes I expect them to answer back
And suck me right into the pages
But it never happens.
Their black lifeless covers mean nothing
To the content inside,
The stories in which I run away to.
Sometimes I think that if they could talk
Their voices would be raspy
Because when I cry into them
And wear out their pages,
They look old.
Sometimes they’ll say,
“Woman, you need to get a life.” Or:
“Go outside, or you will shrivel up
From lack of sunlight.”
But maybe one or two books will understand.
They will comfort me with their magical words,
“We will always accept you. You don’t have to worry
about being judged when you talk to us.”
Really, that’s all I’m looking for.
If only my books could talk.
At least just to me, so they can’t spill my secrets.