The End of the Year
by:
Corrie Currence
The end of the year means shedding tears of
joy
Like a mother seeing her baby for the first
time.
Looking forward to a new start in college,
and an opportunity to meet new people
and try different things.
The end of the year means signing year book
Writing down memries you've shared with friends.
Paging through smiling faces of peers,
That will one day just be faces in a book.
The end of the year means attending graduation
Receiving the diploma that has been long awaited,
Which proves that the thirteen years of hardwork
was worth it.
The end of the year means saying goodbye,
Friends each going their separate ways.
Parents sending their kids away on their own,
Watching their car drive away,
Until it gets smaller and smaller,
and finally it can't be seen anymore.
The end of the year is acutally a new beginning
A chance to now do the things you've always
wanted to do.
Search
by:
Aaron Ahlquist
The sun is hidden
Behind the clouds
The world is dark
People doubt
They have lost their becon
They ask why
It is time to question
What has ever been
In the mind
There can be found
Answers to riddles
That lead to more
Life is a quest
When all is dark
It is time to begin
Search for yourself
The sun is hidden
Behind the clouds
The world is dark
People search.
Civil Rights Poetry
by:
Joe McIntyre
Malcolm Little was his name
Prostitution and dope was his game
He sat out on a course to free the Negro
Sort of acting like Geromino
He hated the White man, that is no fairy
Especially when he said,
By Any Means Neccessary.
M alcolm was a fighter
A and he believed in his rights
L oyal to Allah
C ivil rights worker
O only tragedy struck
L onely he lies in his grave
M emories we have to keep
From the outhouse
To the courthouse
It's moving time
From the outhouse
To the Whitehouse
It's moving time.
The Finish Line
by:
Avis Calvert
At night, sometimes before I go to sleep,
I wonder how far I am from the finish line.
It seems like I sow but never reap.
Not enough reason; not enough time.
Sometimes before I start the day,
I wonder why I didn't hear the gun.
I'm so far behind that I've lost the way.
I drop the whole world and I run.
Sometimes when I sit in my classes,
I wonder how I got in this race.
No one asked me, did they ask the masses?
Are we running to or away from someplace?
Sometimes when it starts to rain,
I wonder if I should run towards the light.
No reason, no time, no remorse, no pain.
I'll ponder that question tonight.
