Tuesday, November 23, 2010
An Untitled Piece by Nate R.
As I took my seat in Geometry, it was announced that we would learn of our quiz results. Thirteen 100's. That made me somewhat hopeful, as my last quiz was a 100. Four F's? My heart skipped a beat. As the quiz glided ever so elegantly from the teacher's hand onto my desk, I caught a glimpse of a capital letter 'F' on the paper, written in red pen. I must be seeing things, I thought to myself. As I held up my quiz, it became clear that I was not hallucinating. There it was, a red capital 'F' with a 44%. Some girl next to me suffered the same exact fate, I noticed. F. Failure. I stared blankly at the white parchment for a moment, and then proceeded to fold it into a paper plane. I held that miserable white parchment in between my index finger and thumb. And then, a deft flick of my wrist, and I set it free. The plane, of course, wasn't the only one set free. My oh-so-humble teacher then proceeded to liberate me from his cursed, hellfire laden prison that was known as a "classroom." At once, I picked up my few belongings and bid my teacher a silent adieu before I made off into the shadows that would eventually lead me to righteousness. Farewell, prison, and farewell, jailer. I am no longer bound to your chains of injustice and malevolence, for now I am a free man!
Thursday, November 11, 2010
City by Hannah G.
Walking down the sidewalk into the busy city, the buildings towering on each side of me. The car fumes mix in with the fresh air. People everywhere, crammed into little sports cars or walking to work, some running, fearing that they are late. The traffic on the streets, the honking of horns, and the shouting of voices. Sirens going off periodically, signaling a fire, a crash, or something bad that has happened. Walking to the tall building, through the sliding glass doors, I slip into the elevator as the doors shut. The soft elevator music plays in the background as the box filled with people shoots up quickly, making ears pop. It stops as quickly as it started. The silent doors open, revealing a large room with glass windows, binoculars, and other people. Walking towards the window, I look out at the view in front of me. Feeling like a giant, I watch the miniature people below.
Sunday, November 7, 2010
Hitting Rock Bottom by Madison B.
The rock bottom of an ocean
Is where you will find the soul
Of a young girl
In fact a beautiful 13 year old
There her body rests
In a terrible spot
Crushed between two sharp rocks
Pain rushing through her body
Red tears flow out of her arms
While fish swim by looking confused
Alone she lies there
The death was a tragedy
She fell into a hole
Out of which she was unable to climb
No one to help her
There she stayed
Tears wouldn't get her out
So she hit the bottom of the ocean
Drowned in her pity
Unable to reach the surface
Life is a struggle for the child
Her face never holds a smile
No sunshine in her world
Simple black and white
So now at rock bottom
There she lies forever
Love lost
Hope gone
Friendship hidden
Alone forever
Drowning in pity
Is where you will find the soul
Of a young girl
In fact a beautiful 13 year old
There her body rests
In a terrible spot
Crushed between two sharp rocks
Pain rushing through her body
Red tears flow out of her arms
While fish swim by looking confused
Alone she lies there
The death was a tragedy
She fell into a hole
Out of which she was unable to climb
No one to help her
There she stayed
Tears wouldn't get her out
So she hit the bottom of the ocean
Drowned in her pity
Unable to reach the surface
Life is a struggle for the child
Her face never holds a smile
No sunshine in her world
Simple black and white
So now at rock bottom
There she lies forever
Love lost
Hope gone
Friendship hidden
Alone forever
Drowning in pity
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