to go to school I cross 2 rivers, 1 lake, a pond, 1 mountain, and 2 hills then I raise my hand but no one calls on me I ask a question and no one answers me Why oh why do I have the life of a Ghost Mazzi Maycotte, 10Austin, TX
Poetry-Reflections
My Hand
My hand moves endlessly On the piece of paper. I am writing on and on. Words spread across the paper rapidly, Floating like puffy clouds Pushed by wind Towards San Francisco. My thoughts race high and low, My hand struggles to keep up. My story is coming to life. Devon Mann, 11San Anselmo, CA
Wobbly Teeth
Wobbly teeth are like broken legs on an old creaking white chair. Griffin Romandetta, 13Apex, NC
