Secrets Scrawled on the AstragalBy Brett Seaton
It’s strung together through the fibers on the back of the lost
Dreams that leave you sweat-stained and hopeful
How dare we doubt ourselves?
In the midst of our mist and making, we think to miss?
carpet girlBy Yasi Farahmandnia
in this town
words hold hostages
if i cry i will
bleed, and i will
integrity and i will
rip apart the frontdrop that has
made my portraits pretty
for (maybe) minutes on end.
Turning Life Into an ArtBy Rachel Franklin
What are we here for?
Might there be a purpose that is more?
Maybe only time can tell the true meanings of our lives; it doesn’t lie.
That’s the power behind our efforts that continue till we die.
Ordinary School GirlBy Hridya Kakumanu
I am an ordinary school girl,
I have homework,
I have assignments,
I have essays,
and I have tests.