Grown Up
Lissette Sanchez
Florida
What’s happened to me?
I used to be so cute, so innocent.
I followed directions; I always did my homework.
I never wore a drop of makeup,
didn’t think about boyfriends,
or care what kind of clothes I would wear.
I was always kind to everyone
no matter what they would say about me.
I always carried around a little pink doll;
I thought she would always be there for me.
Now it’s so different.
I’m still cute, but I’m no longer innocent.
I despise rules—they’re just meant to be broken.
What is homework again?
I can’t walk outside the house without my eyeliner,
I’m always thinking about my boyfriend,
and the latest fashions line my closet.
Hanging out only with cliques,
talking trash about people that don’t like us.
Who cares about what they think?
My pink doll has been replaced with a pink cell phone;
it will always be there to help me in emergencies.
Some people say I’ve changed for the better,
others for the worse.
People say that I’m gorgeous;
my old friends say that I’m heartless.
It doesn’t matter what they say, the old part of me is gone,
and it’s not coming back.
Whatever happened to the cute little girl
with the pink sundress?
I think her mommy wants her back.
Does she want her to be like she was:
pure and meek?
Or does she want her to grow,
to be beautiful and determined to make her
dreams come true?
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| by April Whitlow - 16, OH |
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In My Eyes
Adanma Ude, 14
Massachusetts
I want to take a trip to a faraway land,
where there is nothing wrong:
the opposite of here.
I want to take a journey
where the breeze is in my hair,
and the sand is below my feet.
Where there’s nothing to harm me near.
A journey where I hear the sound of beats,
hear a smooth, sweet song playing all night long.
When I groove to the beat in the middle of the street,
a streak of sweat flows down to my feet.
I’m grooving and I’m moving to the steady beat,
hearing the untamed people yelling out their peace.
Thinking this song sounds so sweet,
I’m moving even closer to the rhythm of the beat.
Moving in my silk, streaked dress,
showing people what I’m made of
and how I express.
Feeling the breeze blowing through my dress,
going on this trip because of stress,
being able to take a decent breath.
A breath of fresh air is all I need,
I’m so glad I succeed,
and make my journey worthwhile.
With no regrets, I make it wild.
On this journey, far away,
where I enjoy my beautiful stay,
at a hotel with a breeze,
I sleep with ease.
And the clean, fresh water cleanses my soul
and makes it pure like gold.
In mystery land, where no one can find me,
I’m like a caged bird in confinement
that just don’t want to be set free.
I go on a trip that makes me relax,
and calms me down into a deep slumber.
Makes me wonder where I’ve been for so long,
how come I’m out of touch with my life’s song.
My journey takes my pain and thoughts away,
and it makes me want to stay.
Makes me free and misbehave,
like the day goes on without end.
I lie on my bed,
with thoughts in my head,
no grief in my heart,
and never no tears.
My eyes open,
and I wake up with the sunrise.
And then I realize it was all a dream,
in my eyes. |
The Voice
Torrie Jay White, 13
Minnesota
Late every night,
I toss and I turn and will not be calmed,
until the great voice summons me from slumber.
For when the voice calls, I’m peaceful and calm.
I follow with joy, with love, and no questions need answers.
For when the voice calls, I mean to enter a whole other world,
a world different from my own:
ever-changing, ever-moving, ever-altered.
When I am there,
I’m a lawyer, a genius, the president-to-be.
I’m a gymnast, an acrobat, limber as the willow,
a pirate, a sailor, terror of the seas.
I’m a royal, a queen, crown upon my head.
I’m an actress, a starlet, belle of every ball,
a prophetess*, a seer*, teller of the future,
a gondolier* of Venice, the princess of Norway.
I’m a nun in the convent, a globe trekker from Rome.
But then the voice calls for me to withdraw from this
magical, mystical world I have entered.
As the dawn breaks, I am back in my world,
and again I’m just another girl,
but with a heart full of dreams.
*Prophetess: a woman who foretells future events.
*Seer: a person with unusual powers of foresight.
*Gondolier: a boatman (or woman!) who propels a gondola—a long, narrow, flat-bottomed boat, traditionally used on canals of Venice, Italy. |
Life as an Ocean
Karen WIlliams
Ohio
The world is a massive, watery space—
an ocean
with no end in sight.
The waves of life
crash and smash into each other,
then wash away.
All alone a lighthouse stands,
shining as a beacon to all people,
a bright glow of peace and safety
in the midst of the storm.
When the end of the day comes,
the tide still rushes in,
no matter what has happened.
And tomorrow
it will flow out again. |
The Past
Mariah B, 13
Illinois
You always regret
what you’ve done in the past,
but you can’t change anything,
no matter the task.
You wish things could be different,
then reality seems deranged,
and then you remember that nothing can be changed.
You’ve taken the good times for granted
and you wish that you hadn’t.
Like when you were young
and there was nothing to worry about.
Everything was about puppies, dollies, and crayons,
not about divorces, fights and self-doubt.
Those were the times of your life;
things were good then.
But now all you can do is remember,
nothing can be the same again.
So follow your dreams, and make them come true,
and maybe find happiness again, too.
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Deceptive Reflection
Hillary Greenier, 17
Ohio
I see myself, but not how you see me;
my reflection appears yet deceives.
Looking in one mirror, two images may show.
I love and hate my being;
I contradict my own deep thoughts.
My days, some good some bad, are continuously cycling.
I don’t know how tomorrow will turn out,
but the thought of it leaves hope—
tomorrow can be whatever I make it.
No matter how big or small,
everything is surrounded with connection.
We all have our own purpose;
happiness will come. |
A Wish Unspoken
Alexandria Lesak, 13
Ohio
As I look upon the sky,
I see a bright star.
I will make the perfect world,
the world that shoots far.
It won’t have any worries,
only prayers that keep it safe.
The world outside won’t matter,
and the inside is faith.
No more “you and me,”
only “us and we.”
Mean actions and words will be
something no one will see.
Joy would be pleasure,
and hatred would be no more.
Everyone can use their voice,
but not like before.
Responding will require thinking,
and thinking will be the key
that would unlock the door
to us and we.
Believe and dream
for then your hopes can be…
absolutely anything!
My wish, as you can see,
has not yet reached its potential,
but soon, very soon, it will be. |
