Poetry

Ahana Chandra, 11New York, NY To the Year of 2120 Ahana Chandra, 11 Did you know, there was once a storm, rising by the months? It teared apart the lives of dear ones, traveled across the world, and left many fighting for survival. The warriors who went out into the storm, faced the battering of exhaustion while trying to save the lives. Still, they kept on going, kept on fighting for survival. The many hungry people, lining up for food, jobs lost, on the news. They all were fighting for survival. The signs on the windows, the chalk on the streets, all indicating the blossoming hope to encourage the ones fighting for survival. The whispers of the lost echoing in one’s soul, they were sacrificed to the fighting for survival. The quiet voice of the protector, bearing the weight of protection for the beloved, feeling no one would listen to their efforts fighting for survival. The booming voice of authority, assuring the people everything would turn out alright in the fight for survival. Do you ever wonder how we emerged from the ashes? That, you see, is for the future to tell

Alyssa Wu, 13Pleasanton, CA Hope Alyssa Wu, 13 Fresh air floating on the old urban streets San Francisco is a ghost town. The flowers are blooming silently, The once filled shops sit cooped up in an empty plaza. Unprepared awaiting to be prepared Gray buildings of fear in a major metropolis Next year at this time, the sun will still be rising on The golden gate bridge, The view is still there, the viewers far less Will you celebrate the new year with me? I spread hope we wouldn’t have to be six feet seclusion We won’t wear face masks anymore let’s hug and laugh to cheer The city is full of colorful vitality

Anya Geist, 13Worcester, MA Perspective Anya Geist, 13 Life is but a glass of water Half-empty, half-full We squint at it, jaws jutted Trying to see which half it is We look at it from one way And all we see is darkness Empty schools, dusty and abandoned The phantom footsteps of laughing children Haunting the halls We see empty grocery stores Looking ripped apart, torn into pieces Without the comforting din of shoppers Without shelves stocked with delicious food And we see helplessness The world wobbling severely on its axis Close to tumbling from its precious perch As the economy dives down As business stops in its tracks As life ceases to be as full as it once was But when we blink and move our head Letting a new angle seep in We see light and joy We see spring, flowers blossoming Birds chirp merrily, their songs amplified Sweeter because of the lack of cars We see the outdoors We smell fresh, clean air Feel the warm sun on our faces So different from the stifling lights at school And we see community Not in person, perhaps But reaching out across the globe As people unite with friends and family Bringing themselves closer together Waving a common banner against COVID-19 And so, you see When you stare at the glass of life You have options, choices The way the world appears The scenes you see outside your door All depend on the way you look This picture, of a tree in my front yard, illustrates my poem. Half of the image is on a cloudy day and half is on a sunny day, representing our ability to choose which to see.