Ms. Taylor 8th Grade, 1st Period
To talk to one can be fun
To listen is to be free
This is how it should go
You should not have to plead.
It’s funny how so many want
so much to be like those
who twist and turn their very minds
to fit inside their clothes.
The Midnight
The click the clack brings me right back
of good nights and sweet dreams
To those long hours both sweet and sour
I slowly grab a snack.
Ms. Taylor 8th Grade, 2nd Period
The soundless crunch that your footsteps
make when you walk into
The peaceful forest that lies in
the little kid in you.
When someone else walks into your
forest you say “Hello!”
With kind spirit you welcome them
and sweet wind starts to blow.
The sun beats down on me so hard
and sweat falls down my head
I grab a cone and plop a scoop
“No fear, its free” he said.
It’s always there when you’re happy
Even there when you’re not
You can smile without your eyes
So that fake smiles are brought.
Ms. Taylor 8th Grade, 3rd Period
I’m loud, I’m wild, not silent
I follow my own path
I do not need to conform to
I don’t care what they do.
How to be shy is truly key
How funny can you be
The name is what is important
For me identity.
My fish are in a prison tank
A dark yet was small case
A living by the Chicago lake
Never seen a free place.
Ms. Taylor 8th Grade, 6th Period
I wont be held back anymore
I have not time for you
Cuz now your just dragging me down
It’s time to start a new.
‘Tick tock. Tick Tock’ recites the clock
Midnight’s arriving soon.
Go to bed and rest your head
and don’t wake up til noon.
the dog wants to be out All Day
he waits for his owner
the owner does not want to play
he will finds friends instead.
A girl with brown hair
Who hates to sit alone
She wants to be held close
being with friends makes her smile.
At home she clo…ses the door
only to lay on the floor.
Covered in blank…kets she is at peace.
to close her eyes and fall asleep.
Me, I am a pattern of the wild
an arguing baby, a whiney
child. But some-times be-guiled.
Si-lent, in awe. Pride lost for now.
How ev-er, I care, I really
do. When not ang-ry or re-bell
-ing, I am pos-iti-ve too. Me,
the joy-ous, the kind-ly the one.
Ms. Taylor 8th Grade, 7th Period
I belong in time of past
A time which wont return
A decade century perhaps
But time will take its turn.
Identity is who I am
My traits foolish yet smart
I am foolish for one reason.
Don’t speak brain, I speak heart.
Its hard to tell who you are
The soul has no mirror
Frustrating not knowing yourself
It is my only fear.
Belonging is comfort with friends
Acceptance with out change
No doubt of yourself when with them
No need to re arrange.