“Summer waves colliding with the shore. Trees extending out their gnarled branches to spear the air. A field of freshly bloomed flowers. A moonlit sky full of constellations. All these things remind me of You.
“I cling to some far-out hopes, desperately covering up all my knowledge with lies. Lies. I dig myself deeper into a pit of lies. A lie seems so easy to produce. It slips off your tongue. They are just words, aren’t they? But words carry power. They are the strongest weapons in existent. Their descriptive depths entrance you, until you are consumed by them, a slave to the words.
“Words can motivate. Words can captivate. Words can empower. Words can bring emotion - sorrow or joy or pain. A simple little lie toys with one’s feelings. A lie will come back to haunt you. Every little lie is a match. A lit one. You don’t realize its harm and what its capable of until you are being engulfed by flames. You are on fire. You are aflame. You are burning, burning, burning. You are burning by the eternal flame that shall never die, never retreat.
“How do we put out these flames, licking away at our souls, you may wonder? You can’t. We try covering up our mistakes, hiding our errors to avoid judgement.
“Every human is essentially the same. We fear judgement. Fear possesses the mind in the most intense way. Every action we take is to ensure we are not having to face our fears. In convincing ourselves we do not deserve judgement, we also convince ourselves that we are superior to others. We become selfish. We, as selfish beings, do not look closely at our selfish misuse of opportunities. We accept them like we accept the warm embrace of a beaming sun. Selfishness is nothing nearly as pleasant and joyful as that; no, quite the opposite.
“Selfishness is a trap. A big, gaping hole inviting you in. You are so possessed by envy you are blind to the flaws and faults. You run. You run through the hole, the cave, an endless tunnel of envy and blame and all the horrors of this world consuming you.
“And there is no escape.”
Rihana and Jacob, Grade 6
Flowers
A bee doesn’t care if a flower is too short
A bee doesn’t care if a flower is missing a petal
A bee doesn’t care if a flower is a little broken
A bee doesn’t care if a flower is different from the others
They don’t care if they are colored differently
They don’t care if they stand out with a flaw
They just don’t care
It’s a flower
It always will be a flower to them
No more than one no less than one
Nothing will change the part it’s a flower
A bee accepts the flaw
A bee accepts the difference
Because it’s still a flower
No matter the flaw or difference
They don’t isolate the flower
They won’t ignore the flower
Because it still is a flower
Bees are accepting to the flower no matter what
But what happens when the bees starts to vanish
Not all flowers will be accepted
Some flowers won’t be used
Their purpose would be useless
They will be isolated
Just because of a difference
But it’s still a flower
No flower is perfect
Different is good
But it’s the fact when a difference is more noticeable
Different turns to bad
We are all a flower
We all have a flaw
We all have something that makes us different
But some of us are also a bee
We don’t care if you are different
Because you are no more than a flower
A difference doesn't make us different
It makes us unique
Rhea Stillwagon
Why me?
What am I doing wrong
Why do I feel this way
Is it because I’m failing my family
Is it just the excuse I tell myself to have a reason to cry everyday
Why do I get up in the morning
When I’m just a disappointment
Why is it so hard not to tell
At all my therapy appointments
Why am I never happy
Even when I’m in the best situation
Why is it that when I finally get to bed
I’m kept awake by all my frustrations
Everyday I feel
Like I’m going crazy
Alarming thoughts pound on my brain
Causing every decision I make to be hasty
My biggest worries are always compared to
My peers say I’m way in over my head
But they will never understand
They say I’m not depressed unless I wanna be dead
They doubt me
They say I’ll never have enough guts to spill my own
And that’s the truth
I’m not ready to go
My mom never wants me to move out
She doesn’t want me to face life on my own
Little does she know that no matter where I’m at
I’m already facing life all alone
Everyday I have to face myself
I dread the thought of the thoughts in my head
Whether they make my room spin or my head
I always end up cry myself to bed
Samantha
I fear myself
The decisions I make
That lead me to nothing
Except for regret
I hate how clear it is
That I’m not one person
But two
I’m two faced towards my own emotions
I pretend I’m ok
I fake my happiness
I joke about my pain
In hope that that my ability to fake my happiness
Will still remain
Anycela