The spring rain lightly kisses the soil, planting seeds that become buds, where hidden tender petals lay, a promise of bloom that becomes plum flowers swaying in the wind with silent beauty. Alyssa Wu, 13Pleasanton, CA
March 2021
Mom’s Kitchen
Mom is sick— a sad thought but there is one benefit: I can finally occupy the kitchen, the forbidden land of war where you come out with scars, but always a reward. I wear my mother’s green apron like armor on the battlefield. I treat ingredients with passion, sprinkle the seasoning carefully, make sure to […]
They don’t understand
No one believes I am depressed. Depression becomes a privilege. People are eager to make judgments and suggestions— They never really know what I am going through. Depression becomes a privilege. To others I have a perfect life— They never really know what I am going through. I don’t know how to end this feeling. […]
