Poetry

My Rain

I'm your cloud and you're my rain

I keep you floating and you drive me insane

We're totally different, yet we're the same

I'm your cloud and you're my rain

You shower me with your input

I assure that you're on your feet

You make sure I'm never in pain and I do the same

I'm your cloud and you're my rain

One day we will share glory and fame

And I will give you credit even though sometimes you can be a pain

Suaad is a young writer who mainly enjoys poetry and deep novels with lots of mystery, which are her inspiration for her stories and poems. She also loves to help others improve their writing by using her pieces as inspiration, hoping that one day they, too, will love writing.

Savior

She’s in front of you on the swings at the carnival

And you’re behind her

she’s having the time of her life

(and you guess you are, too—

She’s gorgeous when she laughs like that)

she reaches back a hand to take yours

Emma Paolini is in 10th grade and lives in Medford, New Jersey with her three siblings and dog. She enjoys reading and writing as well as competing on her school’s mock trial team. Emma also loves seeing Broadway musicals and going to concerts.

Voices

The whispers seep through the heat vents from the metro station and flutter into my ear

In commanding voices they talk to me

Angry, mean, sad, comforting, scary

Racing through my mind, exploring every nook and cranny

As I yell and fight the voices,

the few stragglers left, mainly partiers and low-lifes, like myself,

Pryce Davies is in the ninth grade at Haverford High School. He enjoys playing soccer, competing in the competition band, reading, and spending time with his family.

The Art of Growing Up Without Realizing It

“Our bodies are made of stars” she read.

“Our bodies are littered in scars” she said.

There’s seven billion on one planet

and eight planets orbiting the sun.

So how can one thing so small

mean such a something to someone?

 

Day by day nothing is different but,

Closure Never Comes Fast Enough

Cracked lips, bleeding gums,

Devilish grins, dishonest tongues

 

Hushed whispers, desperate wishes,

Despising lovers, meaningless kisses

 

Wait another day, maybe two more,

But still, he’ll walk on out the door

 

Dominique Kendus is a 9th grader living in Wilmington, DE with her twin sister. She loves to write poetry and listen to music, as well as play soccer with her sister.

His Hands, A Silhouette, and The Moon

I faintly remember a short walk up the beaten down footpath,

            Two sets of footprints making craters in the half-dried dirt,

The trees whispered at us as we leisurely made our way past,

            And there were thorns pricking at my shirt.

 

Dominique Kendus is a 9th grader living in Wilmington, DE with her twin sister. She loves to write poetry and listen to music, as well as play soccer with her sister.

What Makes Strength

Being the biggest is not strength
Strength comes from within
Pride does not make someone have strength
No one has power over anyone else
We are all equal
So how is it that people think they are much better than others
Although they may be physically stronger than you
They aren’t mentally
Why, because you weren’t the person to do wrong
That’s strength
Having the courage to be you
And the ability to except others
Show strength and not be a bully

Suaad is in the sixth grade at String Theory Performing Arts Charter School in Philadelphia. Her favorite color is purple, and she wants to be a writer when she grows up. More of her poetry can be found in the Spring 2014 Mighty Writers issue of Philadelphia Stories.

Hands

Hands were meant for holding
For making memories and a difference in the world
We must use our hands for good and not evil
Our hands are a privilege
People can do great things with their hands
A doctor uses his hands to make the medicine that helps to cure us
An inventor makes new creations that helps in our everyday lives
So why can’t the average person do the same
I’m not saying you have to go out and invent a crazy gizmo
But why not try
Make our world a better place
After all our hands were meant for making a difference

Suaad is in the sixth grade at String Theory Performing Arts Charter School in Philadelphia. Her favorite color is purple, and she wants to be a writer when she grows up. More of her poetry can be found in the Spring 2014 Mighty Writers issue of Philadelphia Stories.

Bitter Sweet

What do you see when you first step foot in a meadow?
You see the flowers, the birds, the bees, and the butterflies
You feel the wet, damp grass underneath your feet
Everywhere you look you see beauty
And you can’t possibly imagine anything ruining that moment
But once you look beyond all of this peace and harmony
You’d hear intruding noises everywhere you turn
Bantering adults, crying children, car horns, and sirens in the distance
Witnessing this makes you actually sit and think, “What has our world become?”

Suaad is in the sixth grade at String Theory Performing Arts Charter School in Philadelphia. Her favorite color is purple, and she wants to be a writer when she grows up. More of her poetry can be found in the Spring 2014 Mighty Writers issue of Philadelphia Stories.

Crazy

Crazy 
Lazy
Active
Baby
Cry /crying
Lying
Smiling
Flying
Milk
Mom
Silk
Bottle
Seat
Beat
Treat
Waddle
Crawl
Wall
Tall
Fall
Ball
Sleep
Peep

Juwaireyah Dorsey is in the fifth grade at Universal Institute Charter School in Philadelphia. She writes poetry, short stories, essays and plays. Her favorite subject in school is science, she loves shoes, and her favorite color is baby blue. She likes to hang out with her family and play with her baby sister, Jennah.

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