Amateur Magicians

By Amanda Pendley

Somehow, I pull the words out of my mouth like the colorful scarves inside the sleeve of an amateur magician
And we are both trying so hard
To save our best magic trick to use on ourselves
So that everyone can stop asking so much of us

The Trees and Us

By Rachel Stander

Once, before the people moved in,
before they took my brothers
and sisters
and cousins
and friends,
I saw the sun.
I grew up
and I grew strong,
trying to reach the sky.
I meant to make
the world beautiful,
but I was robbed


By Drake Myers

As the wind blows a harsh breeze,
And the trees start to sway on their knees,
Within the surface of the fleeting river,
I see myself sitting in the harsh weather,
As a boy, slouched down in the freeze.


By Grace Martin

Different: not the same as another.
My “friends” and I, we’re different from each other.
They are cool; I am not.
I am lame; they are hot.
Even when they’re wrong, people think they’re right.
They like the day; I like the night.


By Drake Myers

On a journey,
Without reasons,
Conforming to the changing seasons,
Flowing like a great song,
Thoughts of things grow ever long,
Mountains passing,
Some dreams crashing,
While others come to birth.

Locked Out

By Anonymous

I look at them around me
Those who with my choices disagree
My eyes drop
They’re staring
Quickly judging what they see.

Alone am I to every degree
I never use the pronoun “we”
I’m different
Too different
Locked out without a key,

Here I Am

By Justin Boicourt

I’m here,
No one sees me.
I walk through,
Like the truth
Behind the mirror.
For me,
They have blind eyes
Of icy blue.
To get in
I jump the fence.
The spotlight hits me
On sight.


By Mary Galvin

On the outside I am a Superhero,
A lively, ambitious girl anyone can count on.
No matter the risk, anguish, or pain it causes me,
I will do anything I can to help others with a smile on my face.
On the inside however is where I console my secret identity.

A Haiku on Fitting In

By Anonymous

Being young is hard;
 often feeling all alone.
 Your hair is a mess
 and your face is
breaking out.
 Being young is hard.
You aren’t quite sure of your friends,
 you’re stressed out;
 don’t know if you’re being “cool”.

Boy was on a Cloud

By Ayah Abdul Rauf

Hallo there boy
You're just a child
Play on the fluffy cloud
In the air.
Think of nothing.

Until you fall
Fall a man
Live a man
Die a man

The Climbing Tree

By Ann E. Mclean

The Ponderosa Pines hunched ponderously,
Their convoluted gestures frozen
With dry, rasping limbs in stages of vexation
And narrow forearms lifted high
In savored moments of exalted epiphany.
My brother and I climbed the questions
They grew,


By Anonymous

I found myself
staring out of my bedroom
my eyes followed the footsteps
of the strangers walking below me.