Thursday, October 25, 2018

Back Again For More

While the school year feels like an old routine, it has actually just begun. These three poems perfectly encapsulate the rollercoaster of feelings that a middle schooler has at the start of the school year. These poems from our editors and the artwork from our fellow students will take you on a short journey of darkness (with a little hope) just in time for the beginning of the school year and the Coffeehouse on November 9th in the Holicong Cafeteria!


We scroll down the screen

And see the pictures that people post
Here we don’t realize it but this is where we are vulnerable the most

Our minds caught up in the perfectness to it all
Not even realizing what we really see

We don’t know it’s a facade put up for people just like you and me

The people we see don’t have a perfect life,
For the pictures are merely a shell of what they want to be

The pictures all so “naturally” taken
Have filters on and are edited to the tee

But nevertheless, this is what we choose to see
The facade a person creates
To hide what occurs behind the screen

by Nina H., Grade 8

Artwork by Emma H., Grade 9


streaks of white on blue
a brilliant hue
how nostalgic, but new

and as the shadows fade
my thoughts cascade
and the dome above darkens
yet escaping shade

and so it begins.
when dawn calls again,
as it always does,
infinity commences

and by the time the contrast
has fallen into itself
we are all wandering
in our dreams

by John M., Grade 8

Artwork by Sarah E., Grade 9

The Words of a Poet

Day and night I write my heart,
I am determined to find my start.
The poet's word are so sleek,
Almost like the lazy waters of a flowing creek.

Shall I stop now, my rhyming endeavors?
Or continue into the night, and perhaps forever?
I think I shall continue down this path,
and take whatever fury society hath.

I enjoy writing and speaking thus,
who are they, to try and stop us?
My power lies naught in my strength,
but within my words, and of course their length.

For naught is the skill of this humble bard,
my true inner intentions I shall no longer guard.
I love the freedom in which I write,
I shall strike hard at those who show me spite.

These are the words of a young teenage girl,
One who will never fold, or even curl.
This is the tale that I will spin,
in the end, just you wait, I shall win.

Society may think that I must fit the mold,
allow me to assure you that, yes, I am that bold.
Push and pull me every which way,
they shall not silence what I have to say.

This is the tale of the strength within,
of a soldier willing to fight for more than just kin.
I will continue to speak as I wish,
for what do we live in, if not ignorant bliss.

Society can try as hard as it might,
I shall never give up on my fight.
The poet's words come easily to me.
so I will say this, leave them be!

A writer I may be,
but there is still strength in me.
Do not forget the fire in which I was born,
it shall be your end, if it is a thought forlorn.

by Ariel C., Grade 9

Artwork by Katherine P., Grade 9