2022 Art a Loan Artwork

Poem: “Finding Your Shoes” by Kamree Williams
School: Warner Elementary School
Grade: 3

You found one shoe
But you didn’t find the other shoe
When you find one shoe
You think you are going to find the other shoe
You have one shoe
But you need the other shoe
Then you think you are going to school with one shoe
But your dog is chewing on your shoe

Poem: “Springtime” by Sofy McWilliams
School: Lumen Christi Catholic School
Grade: 8

The sun sparks and shines like the summer trees
Clouds cautious not to cast shadows of gloom
Sweet scented flowers bring bright bumblebees
Soon with sunny skies they begin to bloom

Above floral fields is a blissful bird
Soaring over the rosy red flowers
Whose charming chirps and stunning songs are heard
Hearing the mellow melodies for hours

The air is chilly and there’s a bold breeze
Great gusts of wind make the wind-chimes whirl
The leaves on the trees glow gently with ease
Falling to the ground the wind makes them twirl

In the spring the clouds bring some storms of rain
Listening closely you might hear a train

Poem: “Dragons!” by Jonathan Whiting
School: Homeschool
Grade: 4

With slowly flapping wings,
Dragons are amazing things.
Some get prey with a song,
Where others wait all day long.

Some have an icy roar
That freezes shut my house’s door.
Some don’t have any scales,
Others are larger than small whales.

Some are fleet of foot and wing,
And others have a deadly sting.
Some swim in the sea,
Others soar through the sky with me.

At the end of the day, flapping over men,
They cuddle up in their cozy den.
In the morning, my own dragon and me
Fly out and dive into the sea.

Poem: “Darkness and Lightness” by Landyn Walker
School: Townend Elementary School
Grade: 4

He’s dark and lonely
He has no friend.
He always tells people to leave him alone.
He sits there in the dark all wet and cold.
His eyes are white glowing stars in the dark.
He carries a backpack of loneliness.
His breath smells like a wild forest
He goes to bed wishing to be lightness filled with happiness and joy.
The light called. He woke up.
Light, yellow glowing eyes, breath smelled like heaven, all happy.
Suitcase full of joy with friends feels warm.

Poem: “The Unknown” by Madison Corser
School: Hanover-Horton High School
Grade: 11

I don’t not know who I am, I simply can’t figure it out.
How do people even know?
I feel as if sometimes I’m two different people.
Sometimes I’m walking on water,
And sometimes I’m hiding in my room.
I would ask for guidance,
But I don’t know how.
How could you simply go up to someone and ask that?
“Hey, who am I?”
Could you imagine how silly that would sound?
I guess I’m on my own for this one,
But that’s okay.
It’s okay to be unclear in what feels like a mountain of fog in your face.
Unknown can be scary, but what can you do?
I’m a 16 year old that’s uncertain and fearing the unknown.
But that’s total okay!
So for now on I will walk around and say
“Hey, I don’t know who I am…but who are you?”

Poem: “In The Night” by Kenna Hunt
School: Queen of Miraculous Medal
Grade: 6

Dinner under the late night moon,
Devouring rice with a silver spoon.

Food makes me satisfied,
“I want more,” my sister cried.

The food was absolutely delicious.
My smile made my brother suspicious.

After eating every crumb,
We all let out a, “Yum, yum!”

I told my dad this was the best dinner.
He said that it was just a beginner.

Now it’s time to brush my teeth.
Clean the food from underneath.

Nestled tight in my bed,
With soft pjs that are red.

Head stuffed in my plush pillow,
Energy at an all-time low.

Finally, it’s time to go to sleep.
Dreams and secrets for me to keep.

Poem: “Winter” by Zoe Magnussen
School: Western Middle School
Grade: 6

Summer, Spring, and Fall are fine,
but Winter is just divine.
Snowflakes fall and icicles shine,
Winter is just divine.
Stick your tongue high in the air,
catch a snowflake, do you dare?
Build a snow fort, make a lair,
throw a snowball in the air.
Snowflakes fall and icicles shine,
Winter is just divine.
Make an angel in the snow,
grab a snowboard, don’t go slow.
Grab a cup of hot coffee,
or maybe some steaming tea.
Summer, spring and fall are fine,
but winter is just divine.

Poem: “Rivers” by Harper Sullivan
School: Queen of the Miraculous Medal School
Grade: 2

Water coming from the mountain ever flowing like
a fountain some are thin some are wide never know
where they begin some are fast and some are slow
the water is always on the go over rooks and
water shining in the sun going back it’s almost
done spilling out into the sea ending what it used
to be

Poem: “A Note for Authors” by Stacia Manchester
School: Homeschool
Grade: 8

The blank page
Is intimidating.
It mocks you,
Testing whether or not
You are worthy of being called
Writer.
Sometimes words fly onto
The page.
Other times they drag
S l o w l y
Off the pencil.
Often the words
Won’t come at all.
But you must remember that
You are the only one
Who can tell
Your story.
The first word is all it takes to
Conquer the doubt that
Lurks inside you.
The first idea is all it takes to
Create a moment
That will last.
Persevere, for
Completion of those
Precious ideas
Is a wonderful thing.
All you have to do is take
The first
Step.

Poem: “Winter” by Lucas Cheney
School: Dibble Elementary School
Grade: 1

Winter has snow
The trees blow

Poem: “Florida” by Libby Reese
School: Lumen Christi Catholic School
Grade: 8

Florida, my happy place, sun shines, bright
Beaches, swimming, and sand under my feet
Times square is oh such a wonderful sight
Beaches full as I look for a good seat

Dolphins and manatees swim out to sea
Boats must go slow where manatee lie
Look for dolphins that are so fun to see
If you end up sunburnt try not to cry

There is Walt Disney World games, rides, and fun
Parks rides and attractions mixed with great food
Ending your day in the water park fun
Never a chance to be in a bad mood

Visiting Florida is always great
That’s why I’m in love with the sunshine state

Poem: “Grey” by Emma Bruger
School: Western High School
Grade: 9

Surrounded by,
a million shades of grey.
So many lies,
it’s impossible to say,
what anything is anymore.
Trapped behind a locked door,
in a place that is grey.
I hate grey.
I wish I could find a way,
out of this place,
I hate grey.
I like my life in black and white,
where it’s easy to tell what’s wrong and what’s right.
Just please, get me out of here!
Take me to where the line is clear,
where it’s easy to steer,
myself in the right direction,
where I don’t have to wonder, “What is perfection?”

I hate grey.
Grey is haunting and ugly,
though it looks warm and nice.
It is, just for a bit,
before it,
turns on me,
gnashing teeth,
salivating over my vulnerability.
Feeding on everything it can sink its teeth into.
Which is me,
trapped inside grey.
I cower in a corner,
begging for grey to go away,
but it never does.
It stands over my tired body,
asking me when I’ll ever do something right,
when I’ll put up a fight,
when I’ll find black and white.
“I don’t know,” I say.
“I’m just trying to get out of here, grey.”
But it knows just as well as I,
there is no way out.
There are only lies.
Grey is a beast.
Terrifying, daunting.
It doesn’t cease,
to hurt me, to haunt me.
I hate grey.
But there is no way,
out.
Grey knows everything about me,
but I don’t know much about it.
It uses everything it can against me,
and I have nothing to fight back with.
It knows that I want black and white,
So it taunts me day and night.
Reminding me of my worthlessness,
how I don’t deserve any of it.
Except, this.
Its terrible words,
Piercing teeth, and slashing swords.
Pouring my blood out like water.
Each drop containing a piece of me,
and the bleeding lets up never.
And so I lay there, and I bleed.
There is no one to bandage me,
no black and white to come to my aid,
no self-confidence to make it worth trying anyway.
Grey is my friend I guess.
The only thing enduring till the end.
I’ll never get rid of it.
I may as well get used to it.
And I am…
I guess.
But I still hate grey.
I shouldn’t.
But I hate it.

Poem: “Tasting the Poison” by Madalynn Dochoda
School: Jackson High School
Grade: 11

Toxicity radiated from your aura from the beginning,
the attraction of it pulling me towards you
like gravity.
Something about it had me intrigued in ways I deeply regret,
in ways that haunt the way I think, the way I speak,
the way I respond towards affection.
Blinded by you, blinded by your voice,
The aspect of being yours led me.
I had a choice.
I could have left, but instead I stayed.
I made a foolish mistake with the mindset that
you were in love with me.
I should have known. You were distant,
sinful and inconsistent,
but I refused to leave, and refused to accept the circumstances.
Everyone saw us as exceptional.
A love story straight out of a novel.
Fake a smile.
Tell them I’m okay, and that you’re perfect.
The internal checklist of lies I kept in my heart
kept growing as the lies kept going.
I should’ve left.
I should’ve left.
Why didn’t I leave?
My eyes were tired of crying,
my heart was tired of lying,
my innocence was slowly dying,
but I stayed.
I destroyed who I was because of who you were.
You fed me untruthful love,
yet I believed every word.
My thoughts were tearing me apart,
the reminiscence of your touch
still warmed my heart
but that look in your eyes changed.
The warm, soft, comforting shade of hazel disappeared,
and was replaced with a mournful black.
Your devilish actions became more continuous,
my body was filled with immense anxiousness.
I wanted to scream ¨I’m not okay¨
but my words were never
able to meet the light of day.
This.
This should’ve caused me to leave.
I should have packed my things.
I should have walked away from you,
and never look back.
But I never did.
I sat there in silent screams,
until my mind couldn’t anymore.
I took a taste of your poison,
and told myself,
¨Nevermore.¨

Poem: “The Great Green Glob” by Ryder Reynolds
School: Ezra Eby Elementary School
Grade: 4

I first met the green glob in my room and I was filled with gloom.
Then I saw his eyes and to my surprise there were eight of them in sight.
They were as beautiful as a swimming pool at midnight.
He has no nose, although it’s nothing compared to those six teeth.
But when I saw those funny looking teeth I laughed so loud that I startled the glob.
At that moment he started to eat my clothes like a slob.
Which everyone knows that a glob with no nose eats clothes when they’re scared.
So I told him a joke about an invisibility cloak.
He smiled like that of a child who’s eight, and that’s how I knew he was great!

Poem: “Autobiography” by Laklee Ojeda
School: Warner Elementary School
Grade: 6

There once was a flower
Doomed since the start
With too small a pot
And born in the dark
With not a shimmer or glint
Of light kept in sight
Alone with no hint
Of hope left in sight.

But it grew through the floorboards
And through the walls
And when it broke free
Waited through nightfall
As the sun rose
And the sky glowed bright
It realized how
It had escaped into the light.

Poem: “The Invisible Kid” by Ava Hall
School: George Long Elementary School
Grade: 5

Have you ever heard of the invisible kid?
Reading silently in the corner
Too scared to say a word
looks like a mourner

Have you seen the invisible kid?
“No I have not, have you?”
Yes, I have
Sitting right there
Silently, sadly

Have you ever talked to the invisible kid?
“No you can’t
It’s impossible to”
Maybe it’s not
Maybe that’s true

But let’s try to talk to the invisible kid
We might just be surprised
What we get ourselves in

Poem: “Beyond Our Stars” by Sydney Palmer
School: George Long Elementary School
Grade: 5

We are so much more than we appear to the human eye
We are powerful and beautiful on the inside
Our outer beauty is relative and often fades
But the way we treat others can make someone’s day!

Poem: “Life Issues” by Libby Prevo
School: RF Keicher Elementary
Grade: 6

Divorced parents
Going back and forth
Mom then dad
Dad then mom
A little baby first grader
like a scared little bird with a broken nest
2 weeks later
Mom has a bipolar boyfriend
Nowhere is where I belong
Bathrooms have locks
A small apartment
2 adult 3 kids
I have 2 brothers
I grab them and run to the bathroom
A 9, 6, and 2 year old
Hiding from arguing parents
Daring to unlock the door and listen to it
One fight after another
PTSD and anxiety
My new nightmare
My coping mechanism: be a PERFECT child.
Do the dishes
Clean the living room
Vacuum
Make food for my brothers
Go to school
Get good grades
All of this going in my head
Too afraid to tell my story
Then one night I get sick of all of it
I talk to my mom in a murmuring tone
Then the split happens
Still having my stretch knowledgeable brain
I can remember the 3 years of this going on
And on
And on
Then we come to peace
Still with the horrid memories
Anxiety and PTSD
Still, come back to haunt me
Mom has a new boyfriend
A perfect life
The one I wanted

Poem: “Lost Warrior” by Jessica Cherry
School: Hanover Horton High School
Grade: 12

Alone on a hill,
Blood moon rises.
Cold to the bone.
Dead end streets.
Endless night.
Far away from civilization,
Ghosts of the past.
Heavy footsteps in the snow.
Ice cold,
Journeying alone.
Keep away from
Luminescent eyes.
Moonlit roads
Navigate the way
Off the beaten path.
Plundered villages
Quick to run.
Red clothing
Stained in battle.
Trapped in limbo
Under the endless sky.
Visions of ghosts.
Wayward vagabond,
Xenagogue of the lost.
Yellowed bones.
Zephyr winds in the night.

Poem: “Welcome Back” by Lily Walton
School: Hanover Horton High School
Grade: 11

It had been a while since I saw you.
Funnily enough, you were there.
In the rug in my therapist’s room.
I just zoned out.
You were a dull ache by that point.
Something I could make jokes about.
And then you were there again.
Floating off my sister’s lips.
Trying to get my dad fired.
And I just laughed
It had been a while.
And that dull ache became a little more prominent.
A little more noticeable.
And we talked about you like we always do when you find your way back into our lives.
And each time we talk behind your back I learn more.
More about what he knew and what he didn’t.
And the guilt comes back.
It’s new.
It’s something new.
Not the guilt, but the reason for it.
And behind that guilt and those jokes and those reasons.
Is you.
So welcome back.

Poem: “Untitled” by Shaun Williams
School: Dibble Elementary School
Grade: 1

It is so cold outside
My feet are so cold
I cried

Poem: “World War 2 and a Big Issue” by Breanna Manchester
School: Homeschool
Grade: 5

Watch, there they march past the window
Watch, as she quickly blocks the front door
Watch, in a rush as they run, hiding themselves indoors
Watch, as they knock down the window
Watch, she’s running from the door
Watch, the Nazis are coming, the Jews wonder, “will we live a day more?”
Watch, as she is dragged past the empty window
Watch, things are scattered on the floor,
Watch, they all wonder what will happen, while the Nazis put a mark on the door
Watch, as the truck speeds away
Watch, as it carries crying people all day
Watch, as three years fade
Watch, as people pass away
Watch, she passes the window
Watch, as she comes to the door
Watch, as the lonely person wonders, as she knocks on the door
Watch, as they join together
Watch, as he and she becomes a stronger force
Watch, as they hold each other, then, another knock on the door
Could it be? Is it the Jewish family?
Is it them? Are they truly warming by the fire?
It is them, and they remove the mark on the door!

Poem: “When Morning Breaks” by Marielle Metcalf
School: Homeschool
Grade: 10

When morning breaks and daylight builds,
A blinding brilliance climbs the hills;
The world is glowing the sky alights,
With golds and pinks that push back night.

A golden haze floods everywhere,
A warming blaze ignites the air.
Colors reach and make their way,
To a vibrant world and glowing day.

Poem: “Cookie” by Lenna Caro
School: Homeschool
Grade: Kindergarten

Cookie is a cat
Cookie is weird and fuzzy
Cookie is the best

Poem: “Sadness” by Clara Uphaus
School: Homeschool
Grade: 2

A cold window drips
Drops that trickle down like tears,
Cold as ice and snow.

Poem: “Music” by Anna Boxberger
School: Hanover Horton High School
Grade: 12

I can hear my thoughts throughout my time here.
Music makes me who I am,
The beat of the music is the beat of my heart,
I can feel everything, hear everything listening to those melodies

Life becomes easy, maybe even simple
Yet when I stop I’m back to the real world
The one I hide from
Music solves my emptiness

It protects me, and I’m forever grateful for music
Music teaches me to be open as their lyrics are open to me
Everything seems clear, no more doubts
All my fear disappears

I can finally be myself,
Music describes me as I describe music

Poem: “The Girl with the Twisted Nose” by Melaina Magnussen
School: Western High School
Grade: 9

And I saw a girl there, curled on the ground,
her nose, twisted and jagged,
angry blood spilling from it
into a pool on the ground.
Her eyes stared blankly at something
beyond the realm of sight,
and she chanted names
I did not know,
yet somehow
I remembered them.
There was an arrow
lodged in her chest,
moving up and down with her
dazed breaths,
the feathers on the end
the color of bloodstained roses.
Her wrists were clamped in promises
that she couldn’t keep;
hard, rusting metal, binding her
to the earth.
Vines wrapped themselves
around her chest,
disappointment suffocating her,
thorns piercing her chest,
every last ounce of joy
escaping into oblivion.
And on her back, sat a
black orb of light,
red lightning flashing inside,
her shoulders sagging
under its weight,
and you could hear the
screams and cries and helplessness
of those she loved.
I called to her,
but she did not respond.
I asked her who she was, and still her only sound
was the chanting of mysterious names.
Yet slowly, she lifted her bony hand,
and uncurled her grey fingers
to reveal a small slip of paper.
And written on it
was my name.

Poem: “To Be An American” by Sophia Lenski
School: Northwest Kidder Middle School
Grade: 7

Have you ever felt like you don’t belong? You’re not alone because others feel the same way as you.
Don’t worry….
This world isn’t destroyed, there’s a little hope and that hope is you.
¨It’s because being American is more than a pride we inherit, it’s the past we step into and how we repair it.
When day comes we step out of the shade, aflame and unafraid, the new dawn blooms as we free it.
And every known nook of our nation and every corner called our country, our people diverse and beautiful will emerge,
battered and beautiful” (The Hill We Climb by Amanda Gorman).
We step into the past and hope to make a better future.
We all can’t control what goes on in this world, we just have to try to make it better.
Being an American means that we have respect for our country,
It means that you have integrity and that you show patriotism to our country no matter what.
We make our own decisions and we make it happen know matter who is in our way.
This country works together to make it a better place for the future.
We know our country better than the people in our country. We come together as one whole so we can work together.
And it all begins with you so make a difference because that is what Americans do because we are leaders and we stand taller together.

Poem: “Tell Me About Yourself” by Jordan Gretzner
School: Napoleon High School
Grade: 12

“Tell me about yourself.”
it’s a simple question, really
yet I cannot answer
for how can I
when every part of me is derived from something else
I am a page in every book I have ever read
my body is held together like the pages sewn to a book’s spine
my ears are full of the symphonies from the music I have heard
I am a puzzle of all the places I have traveled
I have a piece of Iceland here
a piece of Australia there
my eyes are colored with all the sights I have seen
I cannot tell you about me
because “me” doesn’t exist
or maybe that is exactly who I am
a beautifully jumbled collection of all the experiences I have lived
a sloppy collage that is thrown together to create a masterpiece
and a person who is worthy of recognition

Poem: “Robin Bobbin’” by Kana Shackleford
School: Pioneers Homeschool Co-Op
Grade: 7

Robin, robin in the leaves,
Bobbin’, bobbin’ up and down,
Behind the sobbin’ willow trees,
Robin, robin in the leaves.
Inside the leaves a nest does twine,
Round and round a reaching vine,
Sittin’ in that tree of pine,
Is one more sign,
Of God divine.
The little bird, on nest she sat,
With three blue eggs under that,
Her protective body keeping them warm,
From the oncoming storm.
Wind shakes the tiny tree,
But still the mother does not flee,
From the raging storm,
Comes one large form,
With a black mask of fur,
Yet still the mother will not stir.
Creeping through the gray gloom,
Comes a large raccoon,
Waiting for the nest to fall,
So that he may gobble up all,
But still mother does not waver,
As the coon sits down dreaming of the flavor.
The father has come,
A flash of brown and red in the rain soaked sun,
He drove away that naughty old coon,
And after that he let out a yell “Don’t come back soon!”
Oh robin, robin safe and sound,
Bobbin’, bobbin’ up and down,
Behind a sobbin’ willow tree,
Oh robin, robin safe and sound.

Poem: “Horses” by Mary Marigold
School: Queen of the Miraculous Medal School
Grade: 1

Horses can be mothers.
Their babies are called foals
Horses eat grass and carrots and apples
People can ride on horses.
Some people wish for a horse.
I wish for a horse.

Poem: “The River” by Sadie Lammon
School: Jackson Christian Elementary School
Grade: 3

Flowing quietly
Twisting through
The forest
Early in the morning

Poem: “A Butterfly” by Hanna Uphaus
School: Homeschool
Grade: 1

There I see a butterfly fly.
I wish he would come down.
I want to chase him right now,
But he flew away over the town.

Poem: “Wolf” by Savannah Orcasitas
School: Jackson Christian Elementary
Grade: 4

In the dark black night
Howling at the shiny moon
On the soft flat rocks

Poem: “The Unspoken Words” by Kaitlyn Hurley
School: Northwest High School
Grade: 9

Petrified of my own bearings
I’m crumbling to pieces as my mind takes power
I wear a mask to bury the pain
Will I ever take it off?

The words in my head framed to speak a lie
But yet I chose to believe this fabrication
Sound so loud that can’t be carried
Will I ever listen to hear the truth?

Thoughts I try to silence
As glass fractures beneath my feet
Perception falls out of my hands
Will I ever have control?

Time proceeds to move without a pause
I wish it had
From the burdens of my hearts
Will I ever be free?

Poem: “The Stars Align” by Kaylan Royal
School: Hanover Horton High School
Grade: 11

A tiny gleaming light
Beautiful twinkle in the darkness
Connecting people without trying
Dimming as the sun rises
Evening greats them
Forests rest beneath them
Growing brighter each passing minute
Hope rests within them
In all of us, we share the common wonder
Jewels that have infinite worth
Kissing the horizon
Lost in the ocean of flickering lights
Moon outshining them all
Nightfall is when you’ll spot them
Old traditions glow with them
Peaceful reminders that they are timeless
Quietly floating aimlessly
Radiance too memorable to forget
Shining like beacons
The morning dew bids them farewell
Unbelievable distance from them
Viewed only by the curious
Waiting patiently for their time
Xanthic orbs out of our grasp
You can always look to them
Zeal to reach them one day

Poem: “Spring” by Emma Uphaus
School: Homeschool
Grade: Kindergarten

The bright sun shines on
My face looking at flowers
Growing at my feet

Poem: “Weapons” by Wilson Sheldon
School: Lumen Christi Catholic School
Grade: 7

Weapons
Why do we make them, use them, and even exploit them
Weapons
There are so many different kinds
Blades, and bullets
Points, and prongs
So many different kinds
Why do we cause such pain and suffering
When we could’ve just talked and agreed to what they say
Weapons
Why do we fight for land and pride
When we could have just traded but instead we cried
We are going and now we will be gone if we continue down this road
Unless we save each other from this treachery and sin
Today and tomorrow, that day and the next
We can save and be saved but we need trust, a rarity in our world We can be saved, but not with weapons, with words and acts
The pen always beats the sword because words are more meaning and true than any weapon ever could be
Weapons cause wars, but pens can cause peace
A weapon can be the difference between life and death
Weapons
Why do we make them, use them, and exploit them
All they do is hurt
That’s my opinion.
What is yours?

Poem: “Swim Meets” by Andrew Duda
School: St. Mary Star of the Sea
Grade: 6

Putting my goggles on
Going to the diving board
That feels like sandpaper
I look at my rivals
I hear the circadian buzzer
I dive in like a bullet
Hitting the wall like a wrecking ball
Excited
Looking at the scoreboard
Knowing I won

Poem: “I Came to School” by Austin Natter
School: Concord Elementary School
Grade: 2

I came to school
It was so cool.
I came to school today.

It was another year,
so everyone cheer!
I came to school today.

It is going to be good
So be good like you should.
I came to school today.

You had a rest,
so be your best.
I came to school today.

Poem: “Rain” by Delilah Piotrowski
School: Northwest Kidder Middle
Grade: 6

Rain
Wet, cold
Dancing, swirling, jumping
What a beautiful melody
precipitation

Poem: “Running” by Makayla Butters
School: Jackson High School
Grade: 10

My feet are as light as air
The wind is flowing through my hair
“Ding” my watch exclaims as I make it to mile one,
but I’m not done.
The cold air hits my face
and I’m moving along with grace.
As I approach the second mile
My face begins to smile.
My mind goes blank for mile three,
I finally feel free.
The trees wave at me as I pass them by,
I feel as though I could fly.
I pass right through mile four,
just one more.
All done with mile five,
I’ve never felt more alive.
In the distance the sunset gleams,
this is the perfect day of my dreams.
This feeling is amazing,
something I’m always chasing.

Poem: “Finding the Truth” by Alyssa Crandall
School: Lumen Christi Catholic School
Grade: 7

How do we find the truth?
Do we actually have to look for it?
Or will we find it with time?
We cannot just go out and search for it,
To find the truth we have to find ourselves first.
We must have trust to find the truth,
nd trust is not easy to come by,
It can be broken at any time,
By anyone.
Nobody knows who will break their trust,
Nobody knows who will break them.
How long can we go broken, trustless, and truthless?
How long until we can’t do it anymore?
Until we feel like it’s not worth it?
We can’t give up, we just need to hope.
Sometimes hope is our best weapon,
When we hope we get determined
And when we are determined we won’t give up.
But sometimes we hope against hope,
We hope that we won’t get hopeful
But we need to get past that
To find the truth we need to be hopeful,
We need to hope that everything will turn out okay,
Because if we hope then our hope will become faith and our faith becomes trust
and trust will lead to the truth,
And when we find the truth it will lead to bigger things,
It will lead to our future, how we live our lives,
How we think, and act.
The truth is meant to either make us or break us, we can’t let it break us.

Poem: “A Warm Sight with a Freezing Touch” by Lyn Watters
School: Hanover Horton High School
Grade: 12

It’s starting to become colder,
With warm coloured leaves
Falling from
The surrounding trees.
Hearing the leaves rustle
As the wind
Moves through the
Dying forest.
Cold and dark
At night, but
warm and bright
during the day.
I see as the forest
Is engulfed
In orange and gold
as it fell apart.
The warm colours
lure you into
the freezing
winds outside.
Soon the trees
are left bare,
leaving their bland
lifeless look until Spring.

Poem: “Girls are Like Art” by Brogan Bell
School: Grass Lake High School
Grade: 10

I am my mother’s daughter
I have her eyes and her brain
Her thick hair and thin patience
We are soft-spoken but will shout
We are stubborn yet kind
I am my mother’s mess
Spend 6 hours to clean off the counter
Because we found our diary from 4th grade
I am my mother’s clutter
She said she will lessen the paper pile
But refuse to get rid of my mother’s day paper I gave her in 1st grade
“My mom has orange skin, pink hair, and is 7, just like me”
I am my mother’s wrongs
She made me left-handed so she could always be rights
I am not my mother’s cook
She can make a casserole out of an empty pantry
I struggle to turn on the stove
I am my mother’s anger
Shouting competitions are our favorite game
We butt heads like bulls
Because she is opinionated, and she made me just like her
I am my mother’s sorrow
I’ve made her cry
I’ve hurt her feelings and she has hurt mine
I am my mother’s joy
Over a hundred Facebook posts with my face
15 happy birthdays
She posts her pride after every show, game, and performance
We love each other more than the moon loves the sun
Opposite yet the same
She loves cats despite being allergic
I am my mother’s twin
We love our coffee’s sweet
We love our sushi rolled
I love sad movies despite how they make me cry
And we fight the same way all daughters and mothers do
Because my mom is her mother’s daughter too

Poem: “Red Hoodie” by Emily Messner
School: Jackson High School
Grade: 10

My special someone
sitting there looking perfect
His silhouette in the corner of my eyes
Searching for the perfect chance to ask him about that hoodie
My only chance is now
I dreamt of this day
This beautiful deep crimson red hoodie
The feeling of hope and eagerness fills my soul
I’ve longed for this day to happen and now I get the chance
My heart skips a beat and my breathing gets heavier
I’m scared to ask
I’m nervous
The reality sinks in
My palms are sweaty
I don’t dare touch his flawless body
I to have thought about it, but my shame holds me back
Being comforted by that red hoodie is the only thing that’ll help me relax
His scent is on it and it puts me at ease
I crawl into his arms and close my eyes
I didn’t think, no, I couldn’t think
My brain went all mushy
Just like when a cat rubs its face on yours
You feel sleepy and you can’t help it
It’s like you want more
Like an addiction you can’t get over no matter how hard you try to let go
It’s overwhelming but comfortable
He whispered in my ear
His voice was soothing and husky
Calming, caring, and captivating
That’s the man I’m dating

Poem: “Back in My Day” by Haddon Bowman
School: Sharp Park Academy
Grade: 5

Back in my day, a world so mythic,
Basilisks, Pixies, Mermaid and Griffins.
Dragons, Unicorns, Fairies and Gnomes,
Loch Ness Monster ‘twas swimming alone.
Centaur, Pegasus, Chimera and Imp,
Merman, Kelpie, Elf and Hippogriff.
I know this sounds crazy, don’t call me a dunce.
Back in my day, they lived with me once.

Poem: “Maybe” by Clare Day
School: Paragon Charter Academy
Grade: 6

Maybe if I could fly.
Maybe if I could fly,
I could do enough right,
Enough good in this life,
Maybe if I could fly.
Maybe if I mine.
Maybe if I mine,
The good gold glittering and growing in my life,
To see the future of sun-starred lights,
Maybe if I mine.
And maybe if I align
And maybe if I align,
The jagged rows left in my life,
To be parallel and right,
Maybe if I just tried.

Poem: “Tom’s Toys” by Amelia Chapin
School: Northwest Early Elementary School
Grade: 2

Tom has too many toys
But if Tom has too many toys, how many toys does Tom have?
Too many!

Poem: “Quilt of Love” by Olivia Heiler
School: Sharp Park Academy
Grade: 3

A quilt is made of Love
The Love is made of memories
Memories passed down to you

Poem: “Untruthful” by Isabelle Skog
School: Napoleon High School
Grade: 9

Untruthful
Your mouth floods out lies
Pleasing my heart
Only to abandon it in the dark
Dishonest this entire time
Leaving me in a state of agony inside my own very mind

Salty tears flow down my pale cheeks
Like a river down a mountains peak
I’m in love with you
In love with who I thought you were
My trust has come to a screeching halt
And in the end it’s truly all of your fault

Poem: “Ode to Batman” by Carter Bertke
School: Grass Lake High School
Grade: 8

Dear, Batman

You were a role model for me when I was a little kid and I wanted to grow up and be like you. I wanted to be the things you were, like being selfless, brave, and having the courage to protect others. Batman you set the standard for me, which I still use now. Batman you fight like a deadly assassin but you never kill because it is your code and your honor. Batman you are a man of honor, respect, and elegance. Batman you are a lion but you can be an owl, you are dangerous but acceptable, and you have a heart of stone but also a heart of respect and honor. Batman you are strict but precise, careful but enraged. Batman you are an emotion of anger but you know when to turn it off. Batman you are as cold as ice but you have a heart of gold.