 by Natasha K.
According to the rumors, when people descend from the top of the roller coaster, they descend twice. One’s head and body fly down separately. Unlike people on the line, I don’t want to die. Desperate to leave, I turned towards the exit, but it was too late. “Sorry buddy, you’re too short.” Thank God.
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by Betty W.
After moving away, My grandmother sit silent waiting, Arms holding the little rabbit, The rabbit I gave her as farwell, Dad dreams of time, When we were still there, Joking with laughter and happiness After moving away, My heart does not move like it used to, Heart no longer eagerly want to pump, Mind does not look forward, Only the tofu from home, Makes me excited, But nothing else than home. After moving away, My life no longer passionate, Life full of boredom, Looking for little memories, Memories for whom, Memories of the aching feeling for family, Almost forgetting the feeling, Pulling it bit by bit, Away from my memory, Time pulls it like treasure, Away, far away As time watches, My life before and now, Changed forever, But memories of live before, Stays well locked.  by Betty W.
When the rain falls, The hardship of frontline, Hard to imagine, With devil rain, Happiness draws away, Coffee one hand, Black hair with a band, Oh is it life?  by Vishrut G.
What would life be, from the perspective of a tree? Would they be busy as a bee, or just watching whatever they could see They might think of us as gods, or they might think of us as ants One thing’s for certain, they would be as happy as a . . . plant  by Vishrut G.
Four sides in a wall Four walls in a room Four rooms in a house Four people in the house  by Vishrut G. Quick, tell me what was the best slice of pizza you have ever had. Yes! I am asking you, dear reader. What did you say? Oh wow! That does sound delicious. And why, I ask, did you enjoy that, particular piece of, cheesy, sauce laden bread, More than all the other pieces of artery-clogging bread. Are you absolutely sure, That piece was certainly the best of all of the possibly thousands of pieces you have sampled? Why? Was it more artery clogging? Or did it fill some hole deep within you? Perhaps that hole was your growling, grumbling, thundering, stomach. Explanation of "Pizza" A companion by Vishrut G. Often when I am bored, as I no doubt am right now, seeing only the same four walls, the same 4 faces, even counting the one I see only in a mirror, and with a friend, I ask what the best pizza they had ever had was. Often I hear about some famous New York pizzeria, or perhaps an account of their family’s trip to Italy. If I were to ask the mirror, I would hear two different responses, depending on my interpretation of "best". If "best" meant, the most well made, the most exciting to the tongue, then the best pizza I've ever had was eaten in a Brooklyn pizzeria, near the Brooklyn Bridge, known as Grimaldi’s. But what if "best" didn’t mean all that? What if "best" simply meant, the one who made me the happiest? Well then, the best pizza I have ever had was the Pizza Hut I wolfed down, after driving for an hour, at 2 in the afternoon, having spent the past four hours hiking. And why did I write this poem, you ask? Because I was hungry, and we were making pizza for dinner.  by Erika K.
I walk in the hallways, people pat me on the head. They think I’m as friendly as a puppy, but they’re wrong. I give my most evil glare and bare my tiny-but-pointy teeth. Their eyes bug out as they stifle a gasp, and they sprint away. Oh, I love walking in the hallways.  by Keira H.
Despite the pain, my feet glide from under me. I grit my teeth, and tears fall to the ground. Screams urge me to go faster. An eternity later, I skid to a stop. I’m panting when the speaker announces that I broke the nationwide record for the 100-meter dash in just 9.4 seconds. |
