Ms. Roman's 6th Grade
Flowers
that smell fresh of pollen,
air freshener,
and so much more
Flowers
the wind whistles as they sway
as the rain drops ricochet from petal to petal
the petals falling as the flowers die
bye little flowers as we say goodbye
Flowers
all colors of the rainbow
and so much more
gradient
and vibrant
weather its one color or two
Flowers
so soft
and delicate
so dainty
as the petals fall
oh flowers so lovely and tall
You can’t believe it when you find
it,
you run to your friend screaming “look”
You can’t decide whether to sell it, or
to store it with your treasures,
you aren’t entirely sure you know
what it is
All you know is
It smells like hard work,
It sounds like hammers hitting the edges of
rocks,
It feels rough and heavy,
It looks fragile, so you decide to be careful.
Then your friend tells you it’s what you
have been looking for,
A crystal
Hung on rails,
sparkling,
shining,
stars in the
form of garlands.
Smells like Christmas cookies,
Infused with fresh smells
from the oven.
Tastes like plastic—
Trust me, I tried it.
Pretty good,
If you ask me.
As we decorate, it sounds
Like crinkly tissue
Paper, in a
way.
It kind of
Feels like fur,
If it were made of
Long strips of
silver plastic.
What do
you mean
you don’t know
What I’m talking about?
Silver holiday
tinsel, of course!
Ms. Smallwood's 6th Grade
Little plastic flower,
wanting to tell her story.
Everyone telling her she was
a fake little did they know,
they were ruining her fate.
All that negativity,
hurt her inside, little
did she know it was
coming outside. Little plastic
flower she was becoming, sick
with her little leaves browning
they gave her an ick.
Little plastic flower all
crunched up and old all
she needed was a little
positivity, and love to help her hold.
One child asks her mom for a doll
She points to one doll
a girl with a fancy dress
As she lifts the doll the seams spread apart
creating the sound of rain on the window
her mother shakes her head softly
the girls tears remind me of the doll
It was an old doll
I could tell because some parts were so rough it hurt to touch
while some spots were soft as clouds
I believe this doll had a story
She had a small weapon in her hand
I imagined her being a fighter
As the mother and child walked out of the small store
I felt pain for the child
I wished I could give her the doll
but she had left. I knew that wasn’t right
Then another little girl walked in
and decided to buy the doll
it still made me sad
the mother bought her the doll
even though she didn’t enough enough money
that was the last time I saw the doll
and I’m glad
that at least one little girl
got to appreciate this doll
In a world of silence
Simplicity; Normality
Fitting in abnormally
Simplicity; normality
Fitting in awkwardly
Simplicity, normality
In a world made for pictures
Simplicity, Abnormal
In a fake world is normal normal?
Normality, Abnormal
What is real, what is not
Simplicity, Abnormal
Where are the fake fish going?
Swimming, Abnormal
Where did the people go
Abnormal