Grissom Elementary School 7th Grade

Mrs. Nazimek




Isaiah C.


This morning

I saw the sun

which made me

think back when

I was young

and I went to

the park and had

some fun playing

basketball with

my friends on themselves court and I

looked at the

time and it was

4:00, so then

I thought about

this morning.




Zachariah B.


Never have I ever

heard of a big heart

Never have I ever seen a girl so smart.

the Best Person I ever knew,

the Best Stories I’ve read in the

morning dew.

Never have I read anything

more exciting.

Never have I ever been so inspired

I never had a better mind

because her way of teaching is

so sublime.

I never had a teacher more


my Favorite reading teacher

Mrs. Nazimek.


Another Day, Again

Kimberly R.


The streets are

turning dark and the

lights are turning on.

He is going to hide

like everyday.

He is red, yellow, and

orange. Everyone is going

to see him hide again.

He is a star shining away.

But I will see him again another day.

When the streets are

turning dark and the lights

are turning on.




Dylan S.


Is it real?

Has life been not real

has everything been fake,

a dream, have I been

sleeping this whole time?

Yes, it is very much real.

It feels too real to be real.

Not fake, not a dream, nothing.

It’s real, the ocean waves, the

sound of nature, the happiness

and love.

All real.


Do They Decide

Zachariah B.


Do they decide how I think

Or how I believe?

Or can I decide how I live?

Do they tell me and I

Just listen or am I in the wrong.


No, they do not decide,

they tell me it doesn’t exist

but they could be wrong

they call me names but 

I keep on

they try to change me

but I won’t change

I don’t listen

because there can only be

one me and if they don’t

like it then it doesn’t effect




Am I Alone

Diego R.


Am I alone?

The stillness I feel.

The worryness I receive

the actions I make

the attitude I give.


But I’m not alone

the people who encourage me.

The friends I received

I now know I’m not alone.



Itatí T.


Am I slowly dying?

Has my candle been losing its flame,

which was lit when I came,

stayed the same day after day,

burning endlessly?


No, I am not dying.

It is too soon for me to lose,

I still have countless days to

choose what I do for this

game that we call life.




Maria R.


Is there a meaning

To life? Do I live to

experience life and know

about it?


Yes, there is a meaning 

to life. The meaning of life

is to live through it and be

myself. It’s a beautiful time to

experience this with my loved ones.

And the people I enjoy being with.



Marco D.


I ask myself

why is thunder so



I wonder if thunder

is the sky sad warning

us for a storm or if

the sky is mad going

to destroy everything under the




Kylah S.


What are we?

Are we like birds

that fly?

Are we like music

that flows in your head?

Are we like a breeze

that flows through trees?

Are we like animals in

a rainforest?


Yes. We are full of life.

We have energy like a

cheetah. We are like the

sun. We never stop shining.

We are like a light that

never goes out. We are

like grass that doesn’t stop


We are full of life.


Edgar M.


Has the school year gone by?

Have the days of work stopped

on its tracks, the classes full

of stillness. The hallways

empty of life?


No. The school year has not gone by,

the classrooms full of life, the 

hallways crowded of hard working 

students and teachers every

corner there is amazing 







Sergio M.


In Front of the sky 

I see birds flying in their groups.

They are whistling.

In front of the sky 

I see the clouds all together.


In front of the sky

I see a sun shining in the sky.

In the sky I see a bunch of blue.



Esdras J.


Sky blue is true

but why o why 

is it blue, the sea is a clue.


The stars are yellow and mellow

and they reflect and collect

as the sky is blue.





Brazile P.


Why should I waste my time and

energy trying to look good for you?


I’ve lost myself trying to look good for you.


I no longer feel like myself.

I no longer feel good in my own skin because of you.

You being my worst enemy.

The public eye.





Yuvia F.


What do I write?

Poem, thoughts scramble around my mind.

I stay their confused

I see that everyone has their minds made up,

But what do I write?






“Writing poetry makes me feel like I can see myself, like I can see my reflection, but not in a mirror, in the world. I write and I know I can be reflected.”
-Oscar S.

“Writing poetry makes me feel free.”
-Buenda D.

“Writing poetry is like your best friend.”
-Jessica M.