National Poetry Month

The following poems were submitted to The Phoenix Inquirer in honor of National Poetry Month. They are all written by Middle School students.

PRISON BREAK

By E.F. Books

 

I plot to prison break from this broken prison

It’s essential to elude the corrupted system

To release the chains ‘round my wrists is my decision

Question

How do they captivate me with such precision?

Don’t see any shooting stars but I’m wishing

That my imprisoned uncle could take me fishing, – I’ve risen

Don’t get me wrong; I’m content

My family owns our home but if we didn’t we could pay rent.

No, we are scavenging for cents.

We have clean water, unlike Flint.

They ask where my happiness went

It never left

But

Don’t Assume I’m dumb, blind or deaf

Don’t Assume I’ve never seen wealth

Don’t Assume I’ve experienced an abundance

of death or health

You don’t know the feelings I’ve felt, But

I won’t keep them to myself.

 

FRACTURED AMBER

By PRISM

 

the river will come again…

 

my voice shakes,

a sharp edge at the end of every note.

i placed the blades there to conceal the soft, fleshy core

beneath the melody.

 

my voice pinches and i stop,

hearing now the buzzing of the lights.

 

i see a fuzz,

delicately placed on my finger.

i mean to care for it,

but my touch disrupts the balance,

and it is gone from my sight.

 

like it did back then…

 

papers stacked

one by one,

marked with failed attempts at stating what i know.

 

like it did…”

 

a blemish on the black container in front of me

calls me to shoo it away.

but when i touch it,

the mark giggles,

and darts around,

screaming louder and louder.

 

like it did…”

 

threads on the carpet

that are too far away to reach.

but they sit there,

like stars in the daytime.

 

back then.”

 

No. i’m not finished yet.

don’t go.

come feel the water with me.

it’s warm and salty…

NO!

play in the bushes with me!

let’s greet the spiders

with our cackled calls.

 

please don’t leave me here

with my fractured orange stone.

 

THINGS HAVE CHANGED FOR ME (And that’s okay)

By Elizabeth Galli

 

Reading an old poem

Seeing who I was

Who I am not

I’ve changed

I’m different

That’s good

Everyone changes

I’m glad I’m not who I was

I’ve found what I love

I didn’t have that then

I didn’t have a goal

I didn’t have something to fight for

Something to live for

I do now

I’ve changed

My old writing wasn’t very good

But I’ve grown

I’m still growing

I’ll be different in six months from now

Better, maybe

A better writer at least

And that’s good

 

The following untitled poems were written by an anonymous poet.

UNTITLED #1

No one is simple
Everyone is complex
We all have different sides
We cannot be solved
There is no answer to us
We are impossible

UNTITLED #2

Life is the puzzle with endless pieces
You think you’ve figured it out
Until it proves you wrong
And you have to search
For the missing pieces
That don’t come with the box

UNTITLED #3

The rain falls with purpose
The birds sing with purpose
The trees breathe with purpose
What is mine?

UNTITLED #4

The warmth seeps into
My sunburnt arms
The salt air
Fills my lungs like
A flood
The seashells dig
Into my skin
The waves crash
Against my frail legs
And all that seems nice
Really isn’t

UNTITLED #5

The rain falls on
My head
Like tiny bullets hitting pavement
The grey clouds
Cover the Sun
The cold air  
Brushes against
My skin
And I shiver

UNTITLED #6

Eyes that are chained
To anvils
Ankles that are chained
To boulders
The weight of
Sleep is equal
To the weight of guilt

UNTITLED #7

Brittle bones that
Crack under pressure
Eyes that see with
Difficulty
Skin that turns
From youthful to
Ancient
The future is inevitable
And our fate is sealed
The day we are born

UNTITLED #8

Emotions burn away
The chains that hold
Us back
We become reckless
We become vengeful
And we forget
Who we are

UNTITLED #9

Tears that fall down
Your face like
When rain drifts down
A window
They taste bitter
And yet we keep
Crying

UNTITLED #10

The timer above
Our heads
It tells us
To be wise with
Our time
Yet we try our
Best to slow it down

UNTITLED #11

Anxiety crawled up
My spine and
Clutched my neck
Before I could think
I was gone
All that was left
Was a shell
Without me
The shell had
Panicked
It turned on itself
It’s arms
It’s legs
It’s eyelids
Everything had betrayed it
I had to watch as
My body and my mind
Went into shock
Everything wasn’t
Okay
But the shell had
Convinced itself that it was
Okay
I returned
To my body
Panic rushing through
My veins
I lay
On the table
In the nurses
Office
The ambulance was
Waiting

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