Poetry Essay/Prose Short Story
Yes I will

You lay there on your bed
eyes closing slowly
saying your last words
"remember when.."

You didn't make it through
that night
But your still by my side
still walk in my heart

the memories I can't erase,
and i wonder why,
you completed me,
and now your gone
Yes I will
Hold your hands and die with you
Yes I will
Hold you in my arms and cry with you,
Yes I will
remember all the things you said to me
those days when we were a family

You were with me to see my first sunset-sunrise
you held my hands as i took my first steps-first fall

this is no ordinary love,
and I'll never let go
of all the things you've given to me
You are my soul, my strength
my everything

I stood beside you in everything you did
my wish is for you
to carry thru

I want you to say the words
Yes I will
Everything would be alright

Remember when
we never needed each other
things will never be the same again
i know what this is coming to- an end.
You could fool anyone
but me
I could always see
How it would be

Yes I Would
Hold your hands and die with you
Yes I did
Hold you in my arms and cry with you
Yes I will
Remember all the things you said to me
those days when we were a family.

You could fool anyone but me
I could always see
How it would be
9th grader
Sterling, AK
 About the author of Yes I will
I have submitted here before. I am 14 years old.  I live in Alaska i moved here from Maine and love it so far except for I have lost two friends in accidents since I have lived here. This song goes out to them.

I venture in the deep, dark night
I cannot see, there is no light.
I am in great uncertainty,
My thoughts looking for clarity.
Alone...like always.

I journey in the vast unknown,
Truly questioning if I've grown.
Past trivial feelings of despair,
Truly seeing life is unfair.
Being Alone...like always.

When I see the girl of my dreams,
A voice inside my head just screams,
I want them to have and to hold,
It cannot be, the world is cold.
So I'm Alone...like always.

I yearn for just a single touch,
And their body, I need to clutch.
I need them bad, or else I'll die,
But there's someone else, so I cry.
Crying...Alone...like always.

All I need is a single kiss,
To lead me to a state of bliss.
But all I have is just a dream,
And a suffering self-esteem.
Suffering...Alone...like always.

My love, for her, burns in my heart,
But we shall always be apart.
Yet I still want to be with her,
But my feelings need to defer.
And I will be Alone...like always.

And so I hope for one sweet day,
When we'll be together, and gay.
For now I shall just sit and wait,
For that one wonderful dream date.
Waiting...Alone...like always.
12th grader
Berkley, MI
The good doctor taught me all I need to know of poetry!

Picture Perfect.
Flash, the picture forever holds the moment.
To me, something I've wanted.
For you, just another date.
Another night.
Just another girl.
I hold inside.
Deep feelings for you.
I want to reach out, and say what I feel.
But it takes more than that.
More strength than I'll ever possess.
Just another night.
Another date.
With just a friend.
10th grader
Rochester Hills, MI
The Candle

A man stood lost in darkness,
Trying hard to find his way,
Struggling day after day,
And in darkness he was blind,
Depressed with nothing to say.

Into walls he banned into,
Every step lead him astray,
Good memories did decay,
But there was hope in his heart,
Which brought him through every day.

One day he saw a dim light,
In the distance far away,
Which he followed through that day,
And when he neared the bright light,
He then closed without delay.

And then he slowly opened,
With breaths of joy as he lay,
In darkness he found his way,
He used hope as his candle,
And the darkness went away.
Farmington Hills, MI
The Present Before She Left

A red, shiny cord of ribbon,
So tight that I feel forbidden.
Gently pulling string by string,
Wondering what is this thing?

I'm thinking in my head
Am I dreaming or out of bed?
I see little holes when I look behind
I have to wonder what I will find.

I excitedly open the lid
Oh, I'm such a fortunate kid!
You'll never guess what I see
A cute little puppy barking at me!

"Were giving you this before you say goodbye,"
My parents said to me with a sigh
So I promise that I won't be sad,
 Worried, frustrated or mad.

Even though I am getting tired and sick
And my clock is beginning to tick,
Please just promise me when I go
That you'll take care of my puppy Joe.
8th grader
Bay Shore, New York, United States

I remember your anger
can still feel the pain
hear the screaming of your voice
My anxiety never waned
not like I had a choice

closes in on me
can't escape the fear
I'm on the floor again
don't know what happened when
but you keep coming near

haunts me now
trapped under your spell
just can't understand how
thought I knew you so well


I'm gonna explode
to get you out of my mind
can't take it anymore
wanna leave you behind
have to walk out the door


don't have the strength
can't push you away
frozen in myself
Come what may
drawn into your hell


You keep coming near

9th grader
My Life's Storms

My life's storms seemed to have doubled this year
I cannot predict the out come I fear
and my troubles are naught but those I hold dear
and their impish grins have become horrid leers.

My life's faults once banished returns
and the pain in my belly steadily churns
and my heart is being steadily burned
with the anger at my failure to learn.

My attempts to be civil have constantly failed
and the storms once died turned into multiple gales
it seems like 150 ft. waves I've sailed
and all the while battered by rain and hail.

My life storms have no aftermath.
and my soul experiences no sunbath
and my mind wears a stony cast
because I know today's storms will never be my last.
11th grader
Jackson, Mississippi
I am seventeen years old and I love to read, love to write.
Every thing I write comes from my heart, my soul. I convey my feelings through poetry and stories because I need an outlet for my anger, plus it is enjoyable. I think that writing poetry is easy. Writing poetry that comes from the heart is hard. You have to think about every line you write so that you can convey your feelings in a way that matches how you feel at that particular time. To me poetry is essential for my survival because I don't know what I would do with out it. 

Everyone is a sweetheart,
But your my only sweetie
Everyone is a darlin'
But your my only baby
Everyone is watching,
But your the one I see
Everyone is asking,
What is going on between you and me
Everyone is calling,
You're the only one I hear
Everyone is on their way,
But you're already here
You ask me why I'm with you,
It's not hard to see
Everyone's after someone else,
But I see you before me.
12th grader
Kent Island, Maryland (USA)
I am 17, a senior in high school and a freshman at college.  I plan on becoming a journalist and hope to one day publish a book of my poems, short stories and essays.
Homeless Hope

You wake in the morning,
And your soul is groaning.
Nowhere: did you sleep,
But in that dark corner of the street.
This life can be told in just one breath,
................You are Homeless.

You are now up on your feet,
You wander aimlessly, with nothing to eat.
You squander, you beg,
With the hope that this month you'll be fed.
This path can be drawn with just one breath,
................You are Homeless.

Everybody knows,
You have no clothes.
But no one cares,
Because nobody shares.
This rejection can be told in just one breath,
................You are Homeless.

Another street, another place,
Another morgue, another face.
Nothing is more painful than a sensitive tooth,
That nothing, is something, called Truth.
This outcome can be predicted in just one breath,
................You are Homeless.

Again you're up on your feet and on your way,
Just relieved to see the light of day.
You see a church and at once you enter,
Your dreams have been answered; you're under a shelter.
You take the shortest steps in your life and you have a seat,
You feel sensation once more in your feet.
You see a woman, (an angel)......and she said:
'Take a few steps this way and you'll be fed'.
'Is this a dream?' you close your eyes and lower your head,
Upon a pillow, above a bed.
This place you have reached can be simply known,
'You are safe little one........ You are Home'

One less street, one less place,
Another morgue but one less face.
One less whimper in the dark,
We must think with our soul and give with our heart.
United Kingdom
Being a teenager hasn't discouraged me from reaching the stage where I begin to seek after and try to decipher the actual meaning and essence of life. Be it love, spiritual fulfillment or an unknown journey. Life can be granted in a second but cherished for eternity. This poem for example is simple yet full of life, in this case this life is love. I choose to write my poems based on issues of life that exist but are seldom exploited for the better. Poetry is life, born within a few lines and lives forever within one's being.
Tied up

Tied up in my chains,
Always struggling for freedom,
For another breath of air.
None of it ever fresh,
But nothing ever pure.
Not ever free.
As I move,
In a dirty world of bondage and locks,
I watch the blood drip-
Falling from my fingertips,
Oozing from red lips,
Soaking through the pure white floor-
Covered in broken rage and rotting bones.
Everything is soiled.
I am forever tied up in these rusty chains,
Where each day is another struggle,
And soap is never thick enough to reach the filth.
Nothing is ever pure.
No one has ever taken a breath.
12th grader
Sarasota, Fl, USA
I am a senior in high school who can't wait for college. I love to use poetry as an escape and find it to be the true essence of one's soul. It almost comes off as a religious thing to me, and to everyone looking for scholarships. . .it pays off to be able to right poetry. I'm currently in the finals for a $10,000 scholarship for college with THIS poem.
A little request

These dreams made of glass are fragile
Will you please be so kind
As to keep your hands off them
Even with the gentlest touch
they might break
Into pieces which can never be reform
Bit by bit
I've build them up
I stand so tall
I'm afraid I'll fall
Please don't say a word
Words can be a powerful weapon
Once strike by them
I might get injured

This is just a little request from me
Your co-operation is required
For me to grow strong
Give me space
I'll make my pace
But for now
My dreams are still fragile
My legs -still unstable
So, will you please be so kind as to grant my wish?
9th grader
In Between

I used to love the days you bring. 
But now am somewhere in between.
You my unforgotten dream. 
You are somewhere in between.
The air was fresh, 
The grass was green.
But now they both are in between.
Air and grass,
I am the stream.
And you are somewhere in between.

Gap aside, the gap can close.
To pass I tried.
The gap I choose.
I'd pass the gap to hear you sing.
You leave me somewhere in between.
In all I do, it's you that's seen.
And you I've placed so far between.

Soon I sow the inner seem.
And life within the day's routine.
But boredom flees, when you are seen.
For you are somewhere in between.

My eyes are sharp. 
My eyes are keen.
For only you are in between.

You, my unforgotten dream.
In my mind, you are the queen.
You are love as grass is green.
You are somewhere in between.

As I listen, I will hear.
Once again, the sadness shown.
And as you wear your current fear.
More and more you cry alone.

Alone and crying, but never seen.
Your life is somewhere in between.
You touch my words and make them clean.
To somewhere far and never seen.
You are hope as mad is mean.
You are so much in between.

In between, what does it mean?
The answer you look for can't be seen.
So from being sure, or unforeseen.
My mind is somewhere in between.

Like the clouds of the air, you are serene.
Serene is how you seem to me.
You take my soul and make it free.
And leave me somewhere in between.

In the earth, in all that's seen.
You are such the scenic scene.
You, my unforgotten dream.
You are somewhere in between.
11th grader
I like to write the most of anything I do.  I am learning to speak four different languages, English, Spanish, French and Irish.  I play guitar, bass, and I sing.  I believe strongly in God, but am not affiliated with any major religion. 
Trapped-A dream of being treated like human

I am trapped in a world of no freedom,
I have to do everything my mother says, or else I'll get beaten.
I hide in the basement with the rats and mice,
I have holes in my clothes and my hair is full of lice.
I eat on the ground,  just little crumbs,
That my mom throws down to me when she says I'm dumb.
I shake and I sting from all the burns on my back,
Oh God, please let me out of this world, Why am I trapped?
I dream of dresses and diamond rings,
I dream of Parents to love me, and to be treated like a human being.
I close my eyes for this is my last good bye,
I am trapped down here, and I am left to die.
7th grader
Berkley, CA
I am a story writer, I hardly ever write poetry, and this poem took me about 3 min. I am currently writing a real deep novel now, and am hoping to get it out by 2002, if I write everyday.

It makes me nervous,
what you think of me.
I feel strange and unaware,
of my judgmental ways.
I watch what I do,
but it's not you that
makes me do this-
its me.
I fear you won't like,
me for who I am.
I try to be someone I'm not.
I try to be who I think
you want me to be-
a different person.
I fear to act myself around you.
Fear you won't like me
for who I am.
11th grade
Corner Brook/ Newfoundland/Canada
I have been writing poetry for only a short while.  I thought I would give it a try because I am quite good at writing stories, essays etc.  I have in grade 9, completed a Novel Writing course that was offered at my school, and successfully wrote my own novel.  I have a love for writing and hope to be successful with it when I finish school
For Him

The things that I have told you from the start
Were all things that were said from the heart
I love you more and more each day
And I just don't know what else to say
I've told you all about how I feel
And you still have yet, my heart to steal
You tell me that I am more than just a friend
But tell me, where does romance start and friendship end?
I try to pretend like I don't care
Like I don't even know that you are there
But I get this horrible pain in my heart
Every time we have to part
I think to myself, is he feeling this too?
Or is this just a feeling meant to be, but not shared between two?
I give you hints and try to make you see
Just how important you are to me
I think about you night and day
And I still don't know what else to say
I have declared my love for you
And someday I hope that you'll do the same for me too
10th grader
Plantation, Florida/USA
My name is Shereen. I have been looking for a while now, for a place to share my poems. I think I've finally found the right spot, so here is one, hopefully more will be following soon. Most of my poems are just short writings that I do to let out my feelings, most of them are about my relationships with other people as well as myself. I love to write and share my poems with others, because it lets them know how I am feeling. I can't really express myself in words as good as I can when I write. I live through my poems and I hope you enjoy them. Thanks.
To Live Or To Die

To live or to die
I do not know why
I chose the course I did.
My angel came down from above the Earth
To stand by my side,
Yet I resisted her with all my might,
Only to realize she was there to win my fight.
My fight against hell and its accomplices,
Who ravaged my life so severe.
To live or to die
I do not know why
I chose the course I did.
She came to help me,
So I wouldn't have to say farewell
To those I love deep within my heart.
To live or to die
I do not know why
I chose the course I did.
Yet the conflict still remains within me,
Should I remain in my Hellenistic life,
Or go to my new paradise,
To live or to die?
11th grader
Trenton, NC/USA
About the author of To Live Or To Die.
The author has been writing since her Freshman year in high school. Now two years later she finally decided to try and publish some of her work. At the moment she is in the process of putting a book of her poems together to be published by Vantage Press Inc.
Goodbye Keiosu! Hello Raku-sama?

After the Final Apocalypse of Fire, Ice, and Thunder at the end of the Quintcosm (Fifth World), the supreme Goddess Healing gathered up all of the souls in the universe and took them to meet her parents, God Kinesis, and Goddess Keiosu.

After briefly reviewing small matters such as the meaning of life, Keiosu gave a final, lengthy lecture on the powers of light and darkness. Then, joining hands with her husband and daughter, she said "Now, my thousand fold great children, remove thyselves from thy shells: return to the light that thou once were. Together, we shall return to the darkness as we left it!"

With that, every soul began to meditate in unison. As their energy began to build, it enveloped them in individual spheres of bliss. In a few minutes time, the bodies furled into simple orbs of pure starlight. In a parade of light against the dark space all around them, the souls circled Keiosu, Kinesis, and Healing. With a few voices echoing in faint chant and song, all the light faded slowly until there was nothing but pure darkness.

All existence and its measures had vanished..and all that was left was nothing at all. Nothing. Absolute darkness and silence.

* * *

Suddenly, there came a new light. In a blaze of fireworks and joyous voice, new souls appeared in vigor. Their extravagant colors made Keiosu's starlight look downright dim in comparison.

After a great time of dance and song, one new soul rose above the rest. The ball of light shrank, allowing the invisible soul to take a larger, unseen form. The form now had a voice. It spoke. "Friends, children, fellow light!" It said, "Come, unfold in this new place! May we take and fill this darkness as and better than those before us!"

At this, all other souls followed suit. Then, the highest one spoke again. "Spread through to the far end of this blackness! Light every corner, every space!" And the souls flew off in all directions - except one.

"Ah! So you stay? Then do, stay! Come, you will be the one to ensure our brilliance! Here!" the first said. In an array of light and magic, it produced a solid object. It was a glass orb, fitted to a gold pedestal.

"What? This? I don't understand." The second said timidly.

"I know the star that was here but not long ago: Keiosu. Because she took this plane first, all that she created and oversaw is all that can be, here. Only when I assimilate her work, may I transform it. All that she made is here in this orb. Guard it, and we may take from it what we need to begin anew." The first spoke eloquently.

"Yes. This. I understand." The second said.

Nearing the floating orb, the first emitted a ray that penetrated the glass. When it vanished, the first began to take shape. In a mere few seconds, it bore the features Keiosu had used many times: a head, with ears, eyes, and nose; a body, with arms and breasts and belly, and legs and feet; and as a final touch, a tail. However, every feature was from a separate extinct form, which made a rather ghastly beauty of the first.

The second laughed softly, and also produced a ray. It assimilated only a pair of eyes and hands, over which it draped a sunset cloth of silk.  It drew the orb to float between its outstretched hands.

"Now that I have form, I must have a name. And you also. I know, I will call myself the Great Raku. And you shall be.ah, Sakura of Keiosu's Orb." Raku said quickly, raising one arm and sweeping a hand through her newfound golden locks.

"I like the name, Great Raku. I will protect Keiosu's world, lest you need a thing more from it." Sakura said.

"Nay, for now, let it be that we keep the knowledge of Keiosu's work only to provide guidance in my attempts at reviving such things in my own right. Sakura, you are sure that you want no more? Not a head, nor hair?" Raku asked.

"Nay, I need no more to sit at length and preside over the orb. Go, Great Raku, and make your world as you wish. I shall call you should I need you." Sakura said reassuringly, gesturing with one hand for Raku to leave.

"Very well. Do." Raku said, then flew off to find others.

* * *

"Great Raku!" called a voice, "We have heard your proclamations from afar! Also, we have lit the darkness as you asked. There is no more. Only light!"

"Good. Good. Let this be, Keiosu struggled with darkness, may I only know the joys of toiling in light!" Raku said happily, raising her arms in a gesture of elation.

"Rakuuu!" called a throaty voice. Raku looked to see another soul coming toward her. "You look different! Why?"

"Oh, I have taken the liberty of assimilating some of the form that Keiosu so generously created within the boundaries of this plane. You know, you too should adorn some form - it is quite pleasurable, I assure you." Raku told the little soul.

"Okay!" the little one cried. It flew off toward Sakura. In no time at all - as there was none - it came rushing clumsily back. It had assimilated brilliant brown eyes, a broad brown nose, mismatched ears, a reddish-tan face, a head of both wavy and straight black hair, an ungainly body with scrawny arms, and the legs and tail of a red dragon. "How this?" it asked.

"Ah, it suits you well, friend. Now that you have form, you too must have a name. What shall I call you? Hmm, there is a sound that comes to my ears. I will call you.Giyo-Yo." Raku mused, moving around the awkward one.

"Gi.Giyo.Giyo-Yo? Funny!" he cried. "Where you go now, Rakuuu?"

"I think I will go and begin my work on a cosmos to make Keiosu jealous! Would you like to come with me, Giyo-Yo?"

"Sure! Come with! See pretty!" Giyo-Yo babbled, panting as he ran to Raku's side on his short legs.

* * *

"Ah, you are back." Sakura said softly, "Welcome. I have overseen the orb as you have asked. Will you now make a ground for us to walk upon?"

"Yes. And I shall learn from Keiosu's mistakes. show me that orb, I must see her work." Raku commanded.

Sakura lifted the orb up and let Raku see the beginnings of an accidental work Keiosu had called Earth. She saw how, when Keiosu's great-great-granddaughter had run off with a lover, how they had gotten scraps of Paradisiacal earth stuck to their feet. When they had made love in the darkness, the earth fell and formed a ball of new earth. When they sweat in their own heat, it rained down on the ball and formed water.

"Hmm.ah, well. I suppose that was a stroke of luck. What can I do to create something akin to that?" Raku wondered.

"We do! We do!" Giyo-Yo cried, hugging Raku's leg and nuzzling her thigh.

"No, no, Giyo-Yo. Our forms are corrupt from theirs. We cannot." Raku said firmly, petting his head.

"What do then?" 
"I don't know."
"I do for you!"

Babbling and panting, Giyo-Yo scrambled far out into the bright space. Turning around to face Raku, he grinned and retched a huge ball of fire and spit. Sakura and Raku watched as he poked at it a few times with his fingers. "Done!" he said.

"Oh, Giyo-Yo! How wonderful! I misjudged you." Raku said happily, running over and hugging him tightly.

"He will make your world, then?" Sakura asked, laughing.

"Perhaps. But now I must see to this one. Giyo-Yo, help me. Let us see what your work it worth together, hmm?" Raku said. Giyo-Yo babbled and nodded. Scooping him up into her arms, she transported both of them instantaneously to the surface.

* * *

"You like?" Giyo-Yo asked. Raku put him down and looked around her. The surface was hot and wet. Likenesses of Keiosu's plants surrounded them, but these were all ablaze. Not far from where they stood was a giant pool. Raku approached it curiously. Bending down to touch it, she felt it was hot and sticky.

"I do like it, Giyo-Yo, but it is not perfect. It is most unlike Keiosu's, which pleases me, but it may not please the others. Come, we shall toil until it is suitable for all, together." Raku told him calmly.

"You like! Happy! We go fix now! Come!" Giyo-Yo cried, leaping into her arms. Soon, they were back in the light.

* * *

"Better now? I think!" Giyo-Yo said, giggling foggily.

"Almost, Giyo-Yo! I like it very much, but I must hear what Sakura has to say. Go get her to come here, will you?" Raku coaxed.

"Okay! Sakuuura, I get!" Giyo-Yo said, nodding. He stumbled off toward Sakura. "Sakuuura! Sakuuura! Come! Rakuuu want tell her you how like we do! Want go! Hurry!"

"The Great Raku wants my opinion? How pleasant! I shant disappoint her! I'll be right back, Giyo-Yo! While I am away, guard the orb for me, all right?" Sakura said, standing up.

"I guard! I guard! You go Rakuuu see!" Giyo-Yo said, nodding. When Sakura left, he walked curiously over to the orb. "Hmm? Pretty! What this do?"

Inside the orb, there was Keiosu's world: darkness, scattered with swirls of stardust. Climbing up on the pure white table that Sakura has made for the orb, he peered closer.


Just inside the glass, Giyo-Yo saw a tiny figure. it looked. like nothing he'd ever seen. Pressing his face against the glass as much as he could, he watched the being fluttering about like a trapped fly. "What that? Look funny little.what do?" he muttered.

"Hey! Big.whatever you are! What're you staring at, huh? Just who are you?!" snapped the figure, quite loudly.

"What I do?" Giyo-Yo cried, sounding hurt. He moved away from the orb.

"Hey, wait! Don't go! You gotta help me!" the figure shouted.

"Help? What this help?"
"Get me outta here!"
"Get out this?"
"Yeah! Outta this thing!"
"How I do?"
"I don't know! Just do something!"

Muttering incoherently, Giyo-Yo poked a finger at the orb. To his surprise and the figure's, he penetrated the orb. The figure grabbed on to Giyo-Yo's finger and managed to come through the glass as well.

"I do! This little I do! What little? Funny little!" Giyo-Yo babbled excitedly.

"Yeah, you did it, big guy! Thanks a bunch!" the figure said, standing up on Giyo-Yo's fingertip and brushed itself off. Looking up into Giyo-Yo's eyes, it said "My name's Young. What's yours?"

"Funny little, name Y - Yaa - Yaah - Yawng. Rakuuu name me Giyo-Yo! Nice see you! Why you need come out this?" Giyo-Yo asked.

"Well, you see, when that crazy "Rakuuu" turned back time, a bunch of us who were time travelling got stuck a couple billion years in the past. Now none of us can get back, and I figured if I could get outside our universe, somehow I could fix everything." Young explained, "Can you help me?"

"Hmm.only Sakuuura know how work orb. But Sakuuura no know Yawng. Rakuuu know Yawng, she destroy! I keep Yawng, help fix when no Rakuuu, Sakuuura. Hmm?" Giyo-Yo proposed.

"Uhh." Young said, looking puzzled, "I'm not sure what you just said, but okay!"

* * *

"Giyo-Yo! I am back. Did anything happen to the orb while I was gone?" Sakura asked, returning to the table.

Giyo-Yo shook his head. Closing his fist around Young, who was no bigger than his index finger, he said "No happen orb! No happen! No! I go see Rakuuu now!" He turned and ran off to find Raku.

"I wonder if Raku will ever teach him some proper speech?" Sakura mused, returning her gaze to the orb.

* * *

"Rakuuu! I back! What you need me?" Giyo-Yo asked.

Raku swept her sweaty bangs off of her forehead with one hand, sighed, and said "Well, when Sakura arrived, we agreed on a few changes and I thought it would be best to carry them out immediately. I'm sorry Giyo. But, do you like it?"

Giyo-Yo looked at his regurgitation. The flames were gone, and all that remained was a blackish-red, earthy spitball. He grinned. "I like! I like! Rakuuu like? Yay! Happy!" he cried.

"Oh, you like it? Ah, well. Good, I'm glad. Now, I'm just going to provide an atmosphere --  you can go to the surface if you like! Go on!" Raku said cheerfully.

"Okay, I go surface now. See you!" Giyo-Yo said, waving. Using a bit of his own magic, he disappeared and reappeared on the surface.

* * *

"Ahhh.here, no Rakuuu. Can see Yawng!"

He pulled his hand from behind his back and opened his fingers. "Agh! Next time, not so tight! You almost squished me!" Young grumbled. He sat up in Giyo-Yo's palm and stretched. He tried his best to fix his thick, shiny black hair, and rubbed his razor-thin eyes. "Oh, boy. This is gonna take some getting used to!"

"Yawng okay? So little, funny." Giyo-Yo mumbled. "What like, Keiosuuu? She orb, life good? What like?"

"Huh?" Young said, "Oh, my life? Well, actually, I've had a lot of lives. But my favorite I think was definitely my first. I was just human then. A pretty good one, too. I did my share: worked pretty hard, had fun. All that stuff. All of a sudden, the Demi-Apocalypse hits, and everything's a big pain in the - uh, well, you know." Young said with a sigh, "What's your life like, Giyo?"

"I life? I life good! Rakuuu good, but better she me. Know everything she! Great Rakuuu! Rakuuu make Sakuuura, make me, put Keiosuuu universe in orb to see how make own world! But I make first, ball me fire, spit! She happy me! My world Yawng see now! I like - you like?" Giyo-Yo babbled. He lifted Young up to show him the landscape.

"Wow, you made this? Cool." Young professed.

"Oh, Giyo! Giyo-Yo! Come here, I need to see you!" Raku's voice echoed from the sky.

"Uh-oh! Rakuuu call me! You stay here! I come back, me promise!" Giyo-Yo said quickly, putting Young down on a nearby black rock. Quickly, he returned to the light.

"What you need me?!" Giyo-Yo said impatiently.

"I'm sorry, Giyo, but I've decided I don't like what I've done with the surface. I'll just get rid of this one and we can make a new one, all right?" Raku said. Using magic, she began to strip the surface of the earth.
"Nooo! Rakuuu no make new surface! Nooo!" Giyo-Yo cried. He ran up to her and head butted her, knocking her clear off her feet.

"Giyo-Yo! How dare you! What is the meaning of this!?" Raku barked.

"Uh, I like surface now! No want change! Change no good!" Giyo-Yo stammered.

"Giyo, I - ah, well - just - don't do that again! It is your earth, though, and I suppose if you like it just the way it is, then so be it. The atmosphere is finished, and this planet is ready to be inhabited! Here, watch this." Raku said. Raising her hands, she created several barrages of different life onto the surface. Giyo-Yo's heart jumped, thinking of Young.

Quickly, he said "I go see this! I go surface! Bye!" With that, he rushed to the surface as fast as he could.

* * *

Young walked cautiously to the edge of the rock. Peering down, he saw a black furry creature. "Is that.a cat?" he wondered.

The creature raised its head and caught Young's scent. It turned and leapt up onto the rock.

"Big kitty!" Young said, laughing. He walked toward it, extending a hand to pet it. Suddenly, the creature bared its teeth - and a few other alien appendages - as it opened its mouth and screeched. "Big, bad kitty!" Young cried, taking a few steps back before turning fully and running as fast as he could. The creature chased him with a terrible hunger.

"I here now! Yawng!" Giyo-Yo looked at the rock and noticed Young wasn't there.  "Yawng, where you?!" he called, looking around frantically.

"Aaah! Giyo, help me!!!" Young screamed breathlessly, about a half of an inch from the beast's gaping jaws.

"Oh no! Bad, kill Yawng! I save!" Giyo-Yo babbled. He ran over to the creature, who had Young up against another slab of black rock. "Bad! Bad!"

The creature paid no attention to Giyo-Yo and lunged at Young. Unable to escape, Young howled in pain as the creature dug its teeth and other sythe-like fangs into him.

"Hey! You, bad! Leave Yawng alone!" Giyo-Yo cried. He tried to grab the creature, but it was too quick. It leapt up onto the slab, snorted, and then threw Young to the ground in a fit. Growling, it bared the full contents of its jaws at Giyo-Yo --  who scoffed and said "You little bad, no scare me! Go! No hurt Yawng more!"

The creature widened its stance, and looked ready to pounce on Giyo-Yo. Giyo-Yo held his ground, and said "I no afraid! Stand, protect Yawng!"

Luckily, at that very moment, another, much bigger creature leapt out of nowhere and snatched the black, furry creature off the rock, devouring it in one gulp.

* * *

"Yawng! Where you, Yawng!? You hurt?! Me answer! Yawng!" Giyo-Yo sobbed. He listened, but didn't hear anything. He began to cry.

Suddenly, Young groaned. He sat up slowly and said as loudly as he could "Giyo! I'm all right! I'm down here, buddy!"

Giyo-Yo stopped crying instantly and followed the sound of his small voice. Kneeling, he scooped Young up gently, resting him in the palm of his hand. "Yawng okay? Little bad hurt you? Ah! You red! You red!"

Young looked down at his shirt. The blotches of bloodstains were getting bigger by the minute. "Oh, it's all right, Giyo. I'll be fine, honest!" he said.

"No, Yawng hurt bad. I help! Sit here, I help!" He put Young down on top of the rock and bent down to pick something. Standing up, he said "Here! Put stickies on, they stop red!" Picking Young up carefully, he lay him on his back in the middle of his palm. Holding him down with his fingers, he applied several small, black petals. They fit over Young's wounds like band-aids.

"Uh, thanks! These things are kind of cool!" Young mused. Giyo-Yo nodded and released him. Sitting up, Young said "Hey, Giyo, what was that thing? And for that matter, what was that other thing that just ate it?"

"I no know what bad. You want I ask Rakuuu now? Have to leave you if see Rakuuu, no want she destroy you!" Giyo-Yo said.

Shuddering in thought of being left alone again, Young said quickly "No! I mean, that's okay, you can ask her later." Suddenly, he yawned. "Gee," he said, "I've been away from my own universe for a while, but I guess my body's still on "Keiosuuu" time! Hey, Giyo, think you can find me a place to sleep?"

"Sleep? What this sleep?" Giyo-Yo asked, confused.

"Sleep: you know, when you get really tired and you can hardly stand up anymore?" Young tried to explain.

"No, I no know sleep. You show me?" Giyo asked.

"Okay." Young said, yawning again. He lay down on the rock and tried to get comfortable. Then, he slowly closed his eyes.

"That funny, sleep! You lay on rock with eyes closed? Yawng? Yawng?" Giyo-Yo said, but Young was already asleep.

"That funny, sleep. But you no like sleep on rock!" Giyo-Yo muttered. He lifted Young up and laid him in his palm gently. Sitting down with his back against the rock, he held Young close to his chest and stroked his back with a finger. "You funny, sleep." He mused quietly.

* * *

"Yawng? Yawng, I need you no sleep now! Yawng, need get up! Yawng!" Giyo-Yo whispered. He poked Young in the small of his back with a finger. Young muttered and only rolled over onto his back. "Yawng! Get up!" Giyo-Yo cried. He continued to prod Young in the stomach.

Young awoke, laughing. "Hahaha! Hey! Hahahahee! Cut it out - that tickles!" he cried.

"Whaa? Tickles?" Giyo-Yo asked, innocently.

"Hahahahaha! You're tickling me! Just stop!" Young said firmly, pushing Giyo-Yo's finger away, and sitting up. "I'm up! I'm up!"

"Giyo-Yo! Come here, Sakura and I need to speak with you!" Raku's voice echoed.

"I need you no sleep more, Raku call me!" Giyo-Yo said, "Need you be wake so can leave you not get kill!"

Young felt a chill, remembering his bloody encounter the day before. "Uh, hey, Giyo? Buddy? Mind taking me with you? I'll be real quiet!" he said as sincerely as he could.

"Oh, okay! But Yawng no let Rakuuu see, no hear! Or she destroy!" Giyo-Yo warned.

"I promise I won't let her see or hear me!" Young repeated.
"Okay, come! I take you!" Giyo-Yo said, holding out his palm. Young stepped into Giyo-Yo's hand and sat cross-legged. Giyo-Yo closed his fingers gingerly around him before disappearing from the surface.

* * *

Raku was standing by Sakura at her table. "The energy within Keiosu's universe is definitely off-balance: I can feel it! Something's wrong - and something's missing!" Sakura explained.

"What Rakuuu want me?" Giyo-Yo asked. He walked slowly over to her.

"Giyo-Yo, Sakura told me that you told her that nothing happened to the orb while she was helping me with the planet --  did you lie to her, Giyo-Yo?" Raku began sternly.

"No! I no lie! Nothing happen orb!" Giyo-Yo said quickly.

"Don't say that! Then she'll know you're lying!" Young whispered as loudly as he could.

"What I say?" Giyo-Yo whispered back.

"Just don't act like you've got something to hide! Be cool and calm, say "Why would you say something like that? I'm insulted that you would think that I'd lie to you!" Young replied.

"Uh.why you say that? I insulted you say I lie!" Giyo-Yo said.

Raku was silent for a moment. Then she said "I'm sorry, Giyo, but Sakura tells me that there is definitely a life force missing from the orb. Please tell me the truth, Giyo-Yo! Did you do something to the orb? I promise I won't hurt you, just tell the truth!"

"Okay," Giyo-Yo began, looking at his feet, "I curious orb, so I go see what orb like. When I go see, I find funny little thing call Yawng who say he trapped and need my help out so fix time. I try help Yawng, but I no help!"

Young felt a thousand and one little butterflies making his stomach tingle. Hadn't Giyo said that if Raku found out about him, she'd destroy him?

"So Yawng go and nothing happen!" Giyo-Yo added as quickly as he could. Raku and Sakura looked at him, then each other.

"Could that be it, Sakura? Something about the time frame?" Raku asked.

"Well, now that he mentions it, I believe that perhaps my taking control of the time flow could have stranded a few unwary time travellers. I'll set the time a couple millenniums ahead, and see what happens..." Sakura said sheepishly.

"Thank you, Giyo-Yo! You don't have to be so afraid to tell me things, you know!" Raku said, smiling, "You can go now!"

*     * *

"That was a close call, buddy!"  Young said, sighing. He squirmed a bit when Giyo-Yo tightened his grip, as he lifted his little friend to the level of his eyes.

"I sorry scare you, I scared too! Not know what I say, but then have idea! Rakuuu like, she, Sakuuura happy, I happy no lose you!" Giyo-Yo said.

"I've only known you for a day or so, but it feels like you're my best friend! Thanks, Giyo." Young added, "Uh, not so tight, huh?"

"Oh, sorry! Not know squeeze you tight, want no lose you, feel like squeeze tight, no lose!" Giyo-Yo said, opening his hand.


"Hey, Giyo?"
"Yes, Yawng?"
"You know, even though you're my new best friend and all, I do sort of miss being in my own universe."
"Miss Keiosuuu?"
"Well, I never really knew her, but you know, all of my other friends and my family especially - although I haven't seen them in a while, and don't really know where they are.."
"Aww.sad miss friends..family."
"Other thing miss?"


"Well, yeah, lots of thing."
"Like miss school."
"What school?"
"School place see friends."
"Where place see family?"
"Where you home?"
"No remember."
"You no remember home?"
"No remember school!"
"Whaa? Ah-hah?"
"I tickle?"
"Nope, just laughing!"
"Like Rakuuu."
"No, I just laugh, like Rakuuu!"
"Like you! Ha!"
"Like me! Hahahaha!"


"I think feel sleep!"
"You feel sleep? Cool!"
"Kuuu! I sleep!"
"You sleep, I sleep!"
"You, I sleep!"


"Night, Giyo."
"Nite, Yawng."
"Sweet dreams!"
"Whaa? What dreems?"
"Sweeet dreeemus, Yawng!"

Slowly, Giyo-Yo sprawled out on his back deep in a patch of tall, black grass. Young crawled out of his hand and into his thick, black hair. Once they had both gotten comfortable, they twittered some more quietly before both falling asleep.

In the sky, something peculiar happened: the atmosphere grew dark, but was then lit by a scattering of tiny colored lights. Amidst them, Raku stood silently, watching. She smiled to herself. "Perhaps he is brighter than I've imagined." she mumbled.
11th grader

I couldn't believe what I had done. It was unfathomable, incomprehensible, unexplainable!  I had committed an eternal sin that would follow me the rest of my life, all the way until death and into the burning flames of hell's fury.  I had unleashed a horrible demon in me that day, that I suppose had been trapped in me for a very long time.  Somehow it had gotten out...

I could only mumble the words of the dreadful story as the tears ran down, along with the mucus and the blubbering saliva that caked in the corners of my mouth.
"I... I... I didn't, huh-huh, mean to."
"OH pumpkin, it's not a big deal, I'm not mad."
"But I've never been in troooouble."
"And you're not in trouble now, so please, try to calm down."
The bathroom was tiny.  It had a plain porcelain sink that was outshined by this gorgeous vanity that was white but had gold edges showing through the intricate designs of the sculpted  flowers,.  The toilet was to the right of the sink, facing south and the shower was across from the toilet and mirror with about three feet inbetween.  Next to the shower was a two foot wide closet that held all of my grandmother's hairsprays, black, fuzzy hair rollers she slept in at night, and dirty laundry piled up at the bottom of the floor..  I was sitting on the toilet seat, my Grandma Nancy kneeling down in front of me handing me

tissues that sat above the toilet every few minutes along with a comforting squeeze.  Surprisingly she was being more understanding then I had ever imagined her to be.  It's not that she's a mean Grandma, in fact she's the sweetest, most caring of all Grandma's.  You could tell just by looking at her how sweet she is.  Short, black, curly hair, glasses, tiny cracks of red or purple lines where her lipstick seeps into her wrinkles around her mouth, short and perfectly plump like every farm life Grandma should be.  I just thought that I had done something so atrocious that I would have to be punished in some way, shape or form and this kind disposition was not what I had expected.   
It was earlier that day during school that the event had occurred.  I was sitting in my first grade classroom at Humbolt Elementary school.  I guess school started to slip my mind when the cute boy sitting in the row adjacent to mine started talking to me.  What was a girl to do, but maybe talk back a little?  It was all innocent, I swear, but when the teacher caught me chatting away, she acted as if we were Adam and Eve eating that apple right there in her own classroom.  "Kendra and Zack, I'm putting your names up on the black board!" Gulp, uh, the black board?  The upper left hand corner of the obsolete, barren, black hole board?  It was the worst form of embarrassment I could've imagined.  Only the trouble makers had their names put on the board, not me, Kendra Landis, "the new girl" that was little miss goody two shoes.  She might as well have just put a dunce cap on my head and marched me around the classroom for the rest of the day.  After subconsciously looking around!
 to make sure none of my classmates were gawking, I sighed a jittery sigh and tried to keep my eyes off of the bold letters of my name, that were screaming from the bottomless pit.  The monster slowly crept back inside of my body under the depths of my churning stomach and wouldn't be seen for the rest of the day.   
So when I had gotten home that day, my conscious must have gotten the better of me, and I had to secretly speak to my grandma in the bathroom.  It wasn't a secret after too long though, the hysterical sounds coming from the bathroom were probably heard by one and all.  The story came out along with a string of emotions that I couldn't hold in any longer.  The long, bumpy bus ride while I was shoved in my own little corner up against the window seemed like an infinity, when I was holding back a herd of charging buffalos.   
Looking back on it I can just picture my grandma thinking I might have been a little dramatic for a 6 year old, but none the less, she was supportive and helped me to calm down and talk myself out of thinking I was a horrible granddaughter, daughter, sister, student, girl, person, mammal, animal, and living moving organism.  It's funny how grandma's are always there for you no matter how many miles they have to stretch to help out.  She enjoys every breath that comes out of my mouth and couldn't be more thrilled when I come to her with a concern or problem that I am faced with.  I can proudly say that now she even supplied me with The Guide to Every Teenager's Problems that talks about sex, drugs and even strangers.  I found it sitting on the countertop of my Aunt's kitchen when we went to visit her in South Carolina, and I remember thinking that it was such a weird and random present to leave me.  I must admit it was  a little out of the ordinary from the usual trinket jewelry boxes, paper weights and beanie babies, but I now can appreciate her reasons.  I've never come to talk to her about anything like that, and maybe she wasn't even comfortable coming to me to talk about it, but she sent her message across in a way that we could both be comfortable with.  Even though I only skimmed through the book, ignoring it's importance at the time, I should probably go back and read it more carefully just to let my Grandmother know that I appreciate her concern and love her to death for it.  
11th grader
Tucson, AZ
About the author of Kendra .  I live in Tucson, Arizona and I'm a junior in High school.  I'm crafty, I like to write and I plan to be a fashion designer.

inside myself I try
to describe what this surreal sensation

beneath the surface I'm filled
with nothingness and it

it really hurts.

it happens again.

from within my own crowded soul, comes a burning
abusive narcotic noise and it

down and eats into my metaphysical existence. then
my fear swallows the sound: my

of tomorrow.

they can't hear me.
11th grader
Weston-super-Mare, North Somerset, UK
I believe "Salma" to be a dark and mysterious girl, representing my soul.  She is her own person, refuses to be judged, and her philosophical mind continues to evolve during her journey to further self discovery.
Yet With Fierce Desire?

Souls met-
As if by chance-
A World of ethereal
Wonder, yet? How can
Thee trust a love on fire, a
Heart that writhes with fierce desire?

To fall upon thy heart's whim,
Thy sells thyself to passion
Wherein? Spiteful tales
Begin to spin, the
Infinite, inner,
9th grader
Excuse me...

Excuse me,
I have something to say-
My life is ruined every day.
Excuse me,
I have something to add-
False was all I ever had.
Excuse me,
I have to point out-
I can't scream, cry or shout.
Excuse me,
I'd like to declare-
I'm out of reach, no need for repair.
Excuse me,
I would like to reveal-
Hate is all I ever feel.
9th grader
London, UK
yes, i wrote this last year-
im in claremont high (london). I'm starting to hate life again as the suicidal feelings rush back. I've actually found that writing is my only way of keeping my self-respect, that's why i do it because it is true.
peace and love.

I sit back and let you take control
And then my eyes start to roll
Into the farthest fathoms of my soul
Into a place where I feel whole

I let you do this every time
Because no matter how high I climb
I can't leave you behind
Your effects are too sublime

I need to walk away
And try to face just one day
When I won't allow you to sway
My mind, and lead me astray

But I just can't leave
I just couldn't deceive
You, though I would love to believe
That you are a friend I would not grieve

Why do I let you control me like this
Why do I follow you into the black abyss
A place where I can only reminisce
On what it would've been like to truly exist.

10th grader
Largo Vista, TX

nothing is here
nothing will pass

nothing will knock me down



nothing at all.

for i stand here tall

and fight for my will

my right to stand here and breath!

i have the right to live

i have the will!

now the question is...

do i have the power?

or the strength?

will i survive?
8th grader
About the author of Ted. I'm a thirteen year old male that writes poetry to relieve stress and writes songs for the fun of it. i belief that writing is a very good thing at this age and well any form of stress relief is healthy.
Everything I Wanted

   Somehow I managed to make it up my porch steps and into my house before I burst into tears.
   I couldn't believe it.  My high school sweetheart, the one that got away, was in love with someone that wasn't me, and even worse, I felt it was my duty as his strictly platonic pal to urge him to go for it.  Sure, high school was over seven years ago, and we both came back to the same town here in Florida, but never had I found anyone else that came close to him.  Now that he had found someone to replace me, I was absolutely devastated. 
  He was completely clueless to my hints.  Had I not dropped them hard enough?  I didn't want to drop an anvil on his head that had the words "I love you" engraved on it.  So where did I go wrong?  I was too immersed in self-pity at that moment to care.
   The rapidly flashing red light from my answering machine reminded me that I had probably missed a few calls.  With just a drop of hope, I pushed the play button, praying that one of the four messages was from him.
   At first I was greeted by the painfully monotonous voice of my boss.  "Jenny, yeah, this is Robert, umm, that article that you submitted to Newsweek-".
   Impatiently I hit the fast-forward button to check the other three messages.
   "Click.  Beep."
   Good for nothing machine!  I thought.  Why couldn't it pick up anything worth listening to?
   "Click.  Beep."
   Not again!  "I'm this close to shoving you in the garbage compactor!"
   My tirade on the inanimate object was pleasantly interrupted by the fourth and final message.
   "Hey Jenny, it's Rick."  At that moment, I heard angels in Heaven singing Alleluia.  If I were able to carry a tune, I might have joined in.  Just for one verse, though.
   "...the date went real well, she's very conversational, obviously led quite an interesting life.  You know that when her dad took her to India-"
   Stop!  I pushed the appropriate button.  The cheerfulness in his voice nauseated me.  I didn't much care to hear about the Dalai Lama or sacred cows.
   Probably my boss again, telling me how appalling and unsuitable Newsweek found my article on the exorbitant overpopulation of America due to extreme ignorance and lack of birth control.  Oh well, my tears had subsided, so I picked up the phone.
   "Hello?" I asked hesitantly.
   "Jenny.  Hi, did you get my message?" Rick asked with that deceptive sweetness.
   "Actually, yeah.  She seems great.  Have you two set up another date?" I asked with the most pathetic attempt at enthusiasm.  Desperately, I tried not to choke on the boulder-sized lump lodged in my throat. 
   "Yes, but it's more formal.  She came by yesterday, though, we just sat around, watched TV, had lemonade."
   A-ha!  I thought.  Just what married couples do.  Except for the lemonade part.  That gave me something of a chance.
   He added, "She's got such a sweet disposition.  She kept telling me how grateful she was to you for playing matchmaker.  She said you're a saint.  Never before had she been on a blind date that actually developed into something more."
   Oh, she's so welcome, I thought.  If she thinks of me as a saint, shoot me now, I'll be a martyr.  I was such an idiot for just letting him go and get all lovey-dovey with a mere acquaintance of mine.
   "Yeah, tell her it was my pleasure," I told him after a long pause.
   That was one strike against my already fragile heart.
   "I sure will," he replied.  "Hey, you and I haven't had coffee since you set her and me up.  Did that occur to you?"
   Strike two.
   He added, "I don't want us to grow apart just because I'm seeing someone else."
   "Hey, umm, can I let you go?" I asked abruptly before strike three.
   "Sure, I'll call you after mine and Lori's date."
   "Uh-huh, okay, bye."  With that, I hung up the phone with tears in my eyes.

   As days passed, the calls were less and less frequent.  Weeks went by that he wouldn't call.  Phone tag became our only means of communication for four months.  By then I wanted to hear his voice, regardless of what he had to say.
   That June, I got a message from him on my answering machine wishing me a happy birthday.  The only thing that shattered my birthday wishes was her voice on that same message.  They, as one entity, wished me a happy birthday.  Oh, if only they knew.  If only they knew that my golden retriever Spartacus was the only one there to witness my making a wish and blowing out 25 candles.  A quarter of a century was too old to find anyone.  I promised Spartacus right then and there that it were legal, he and I could get married, with the appropriate stipulations.  There I was, 25 years old, with a dog as my only true companion.  Friends weren't that true to me, they never really had been.  I never found much time to socialize outside of my hectic career as a journalist except in the evenings when my friend Amanda and I would go out and walk our dogs together.  Sure, the career was great, and I did have a few good friends, but what was it worth when this birthday wish of finding true !
love couldn't be fulfilled?
  In November that same year, it hit me.  After voluntarily drowning myself in loads of work, I realized I shouldn't be so sad.  There were people with no family to go home to, no friends to talk to, some with no home, even.  That made me realize how lucky I was.  Once I had that in mind, my attitude changed.  My weekly columns in the Sunday paper became much more optimistic, according to the deluge of "fan mail" that I was suddenly getting.  I had finally learned not to focus on the bad, but make what I could of the good.
   On Thanksgiving weekend, I put out an article about how thankful I was for the family and friends I had.  I thanked the people who told me I could make it.  I thanked those who discouraged me as well, since they instilled this fierce drive in me to succeed at what I did.  The negative energy they gave me was converted into something more positive, perhaps to their disappointment, but regardless, it was negativity for the most part that compelled me to prove them all wrong and just make myself happy in the end.  I urged others not to be a pessimist like I had been.  After all, I joke, I was already a quarter of a century old; I couldn't spend the rest of my short life crying over the past.  Instead, I promised myself that I would use all of my past experiences to guide me in my future pursuits.  At the end, I thanked Rick, for being there when he was, for inspiring me to work as hard as I did for success.  I wished him the best with Lori, whom I no longer felt compelled to j!
just call what's-her-name.
   In February the following year, I ran into him at the mall.  We had quite a chat, yet somehow it saddened me to hear about his and Lori's break-up.  He insisted it was for the better - she was still too attached to her ex.  We caught up, and eventually started dating again.  Gradually we became more and more serious.  I confessed that my beyond-platonic affinity for him had never completely been lost, and that letting go of him was the hardest thing I had ever done in my life.  He told me it was the best thing I could have done for him.  It helped him realize what he was missing, he explained.  I let him go out into the world, and regardless of what he had, he came back.  To make a long story short, we married the next year.  It took ten years for us to realize what we had in the first place, but it was worth it.  Now I'm relieved.  No more horrendous blind dates or Friday night Haagen-Dazs fests for me.  Sure, it took time, but truly letting go of everything I wanted brought back to me everything I ever needed.
12th grader
Del Rio, TX
About the author of Everything I Wanted
  I wrote this story one day when I got really into this dream of my former boyfriend and I getting back together.  I've written several other stories; this one by far has the happiest ending.
  When I'm not writing I'm either surfing the Web, hanging out with friends, or working.
  I'm the editor of my school paper, also.  I was pretty proud of that, and I make it my goal to make my school's paper the best it has ever been.
  I graduate in May of 2002.  I will probably go to UT and major in English.  I may pursue journalism, but I have a couple of years to decide if I really want to do that or not.

One cold stormy night in a small house just outside of Chicago, sat a little boy.  The night just happened to be Halloween.  It was very hazy outside, and the unfortunate little boy could barely see out the tiny window.  The boy's name was Tommy.  Tommy was no more than seven years old and this was the first time his mother let him go trick-or-treating by himself.  Tommy didn't have very many friends, and he was terrified of going out at night time all by himself. Particularly on Halloween night.  "If only my daddy was here," Tommy thought to himself, "Then I could have him take me trick-or-treating, so I wouldn't be alone,"  He only lived with his mother because his father had left his family when Tommy was five.  Tommy wasn't quite sure why his father had left them, because of the fact that he was so young, but now he was beginning to understand. 

"Tommy," called his mother, "It's time to go!  Go and get your costume on so you can get yourself some candy!  Come on, Tommy it'll be fun!"  But Tommy didn't seem to think it would be as much fun as his mother had told him it would be.  It made him want to yell for help when he thought of some of the things he could see while he was out on the streets.  But Tommy didn't tell his mother these things.  He didn't want to let her down after telling her that he was brave enough to handle going out at night by himself.  Especially on Halloween night at 8:30.  Which was normally his bedtime, but his mom let it slide this time since it was Halloween and all. 

There Tommy stood, as ready as he ever was to go trick-or-treating.  So Tommy starts walking down 127th street.  He sees a house.  It doesn't look to scary so the little boy slowly walks up to the door and knocks.  A wrinkly old lady answers the door. 

"What do you want?" are the words that slithered out of her repulsive mouth.

"Umm. trick-or-treat?" Tommy replies, as he looks at the revolting, yellow, chipped teeth inside of the old nauseating lady's mouth.

"Is it that time of year already?" Says the old, hideous lady in a very casual tone of voice.  Tommy has a scared look on his face.  The old lady sees this and invites him in for a cup of hot chocolate.  Tommy refuses to go in because his mother always tells him not to talk to strangers and to never go in their houses.  The lady introduces herself as  the old lady who lives next door named Mildred H. Biggenstein.  Tommy figures that if he knows the lady's name then she isn't a stranger anymore and he could go into her house for a nice cup of hot chocolate.  So Tommy goes in.  Mildred tells Tommy to have a seat in the chair next to the television.  Tommy goes and sits down in the ugly yellow chair.  He tries not to say anything to Mildred, but can't help asking her why she has a whole bunch of brooms hanging on the wall above the television.  In reply to Tommy's question Ms. Biggenstein says that she is a collector of brooms.  Tommy finds this  quite unusual for an old lady to!
 collect brooms, but doesn't ask any further questions of her.  Mildred brings in the hot chocolate that she had been making in the kitchen.  She hands it to Tommy and he pulls away as a reaction to the cup being so hot.  The little boy's old neighbor quickly scurries into the kitchen and gets a cold wash cloth.  She puts it over Tommy's burned hand and tells him to hold it on there.  As he is holding the wet rag on his hand, he turns around only to find that there was also a collection of cone shaped hats with pointed tops hanging on the wall.  Now he was beginning to get scared again and finally told Mildred that he had to go home.  Mildred then yelled at Tommy that he couldn't go home yet and that she had to show him one last thing.  Mildred grabbed a hat and a broom as she led  Tommy downstairs.  Tommy followed only because he was so scared.  As soon as they reached the bottom step, Mildred lunged onto her broom as she  shoved her hat onto her head.  Tommy was never seen a!
gain after that day.  No one knows what happened to him.  But the legend is that every Halloween night, people see him on a broom soaring around the tiny, neighborhood in the dim of night. 

                          THE END
8th grade
St Peters, MO
I love to write
The House of the Leaking Spirit

I walk in this serene environment
Nature is at an ultimate pause
The sky is falling down as the doves vomit blood
Trees burning down, acid rain pours down from space
The Black Hole sun burns hell into my soul
As Heaven attempts to shine hit's life down
I pray for the rain from Yeshua
Shed on a tree for me
The devil holds his umbrellas to destroy my life
As his demons set up a picnic for me
Tired of the demons I deal with
Tired of the disparity in my soul
Liquid from the porcelain god eases my mind
As my soul sinks deeper into sin
Angels cry over the carcass I call my soul
Demons cheer me on as the falcons devour me
All I want is rest for my soul
A solace upon Mt. Zion
Someday I will, I hope, I pray I do
Until then my will leak blood from my soul.
Toledo, OH
About the author of "The House of the Leaking Spirit."  Joseph is a 19 year old, freshman college student, who loves spiritual, deep, dark poetry.  A Christian for 7 to 8 years, and writes the poetry to express his faith, and the struggles of his faith.
Yesterday's Star Radio

It's the day like yesterday
I'm going to need to forget
but when it calms me down
and I'm somewhere
inside the old and lost
the new and found
someone's going to wake up,
listen to the star radio
and wonder why
it's not all like this
we're not all alive and well

Sing sister
Mister is watching you
Mistress is stalking you
and I'm arriving in hide

later review
the past and confused
and celebrate
when the sky turns to wine

but in the out
and without
your consistent doubt
we won't refuse
and instead
abused and used
we woke up one morning
and couldn't get out of bed
9th grader
Georgetown, Ontario, Canada
About the author of Yesterday's Star Radio

I've been writing since i first learned how to write a word.  Writing and Reading are very important to me.  Yesterday's Star Radio is important to me, since it reflect my emotions at times when I feel I can barely breathe.

All my tests, all my quizzes, all my grades,
All my A's, all my B's, all my C's
No pride, no happiness, no fear.

Twenty hours, I study,
No resting, no stopping, no surrendering,
Card after card, page after page,
I study, I memorize, I assimilate,
While I eat, while I shower, while I --,
I study.

I take my test; I get the A,
Sixty point five out of sixty-two points,
Ninety-seven point five eight zero six percent,
I get the A.

All through the day,
I wait; wait to tell you
So you can be proud, so you will be satisfied,

Your late; its four twenty,
I get out at three thirty,
It doesn't matter, I will tell you; you will be proud,

You come, I get in, you open your mouth,
     you woke up late today, you're so lazy, watch so
     much TV, don't work hard, so lazy, always get B's,
     B's aren't good enough, you could get an A if you
     studied harder, but you're so lazy,
     you have to get at least 97%, you know this,
     how was your test?


     how was your test

     it was fine

     fine?  just fine?  you didn't study!! lazy, don't work  

Empty, nothing,
Not enough to even cry.
11th grader
San Francisco, CA
I'm a junior in high school, this my first submission, I'm sixteen, I'm cynical, I'm bitter, I'm bitchy, I'm not allowed to watch TV, talk on the phone, listen to the radio, go out with my friends, or go online except for homework which means I'm technically not even suppose to be doing this, but what the hell, i have hella time on my hands, my life sucks, yadda yadda yadda, the usual crap, so now you know a little about me...tell me if you like the poem at

The cold feeling of the wind against your face,
When you don't know where you are
The burning in the pit of your stomach
When you have done something wrong
The desperation to be loved
When you know you won't be

You are detached from life,
From truth
From living itself

To hear the yells and cries for help,
But not feel a thing
To see the painful images on the TV.
But to not care
To practically smell the sadness in the air,
But not wanting to sympathize

You are detached from life,
From truth
From living itself

The dejected feeling of loneliness
The hopeless look on life

Detached heart.
9th grader
Philadelphia, PA
About the author of Detached.
14 years old from Philly, has also written "Little Girls Should be Innocent."
A Glimpse Into Their World

In a crowded marketplace
amid the screams of children
and the smell of fresh fruit
something beautiful is forming
a man and woman stand
obviously together

the woman's arms encircle the man's neck
his hands possessively on her hips
his smile is intimate as he looks
into her radiant upturned face

she stands on her tiptoes
her lips close to his ear
she whispers something for him alone
his lips slowly curve into a smile

he laughs
slowly reaches up a hand
trailing his fingertips across her face
a touch so casual
but so very intimate

in their world,
only imagination exists between them
who can imagine the best word?
the best compliment?
the best emotion?
who can describe the best way
to paint a picture of the emotions coursing through them

it is a secluded place
away from the cynicism
crimes, ignorance
of real life
taking them to a sparkly clean world of idealism

it is a place
where your blood is like liquid electricity
only a touch
sparks a reaction

where a single glance
tells of what centuries of romantics
have tried to put into words,
but failed

after a lingering kiss,
the man and woman break apart
they both seem to k now
there are other places they need to be
they just can't say good-bye

the word seems like a curse on their lips
they time they spend together passes too fast
and comes too far between

finally, she walks away
the man stays in one place
staring after the woman

she looks back at him
blows a kiss

the kiss mobilizes him
he turns around
walks away
enveloped in the crowd

even after they leave each other's presence
memory persists
until the next time
their thoughts,
bodies, souls
meld together
12th grader
Boyne City Michigan
About the author of  A Glimpse Into Their World
I don't usually write sappy poetry, but I got a line in my head and went with it. Hope you like it.
" Where Were the Parents? "
                         Parents not spending enough time with their children has recently been a subject of debate that more and more people have become involved in. Due to the numerous acts of school shootings, the question " Where were the parents? ",
has been raised more frequently. While this issue can be very controversial, studies have shown that good parent/children relationships will lead to less likelihood of children getting into trouble, as well as the development of a sense of stability and  security in a child.

                          According to a study conducted by researchers at Baylor College of Medicine in Houston, Texas, " 6,500 sixth, seventh, and eighth graders found that teens from close-knit families, whose relationship with their parents was based on trust and open communication, were less likely to use alcohol ". The study also found that teenagers with critical, non-supportive parents became distant from their families and were more likely to be involved with alcohol use ( Weekly Update:Keeping Children Alcohol Free ).

                         It's understandable that parents often work long, hard hours and return home tired. However, is it 'good' parenting to ignore the fact that they need to attend the needs of their children? Children need adult's time and involvement in their lives because it is crucial to their well-being. Parents cannot just spend time with their children. Rather, they need to spend some quality time with them. Many children complain that their parents often come home cranky and distracted when they are around, if they're around at all. These situations cause children to spend more time with their friends than their families. They turn to their friends as a source of advice and for guidance on values. This type of parenting 'subsitution' can result into outside threats such as drugs and alcohol, as well as poor decision-
making. Communication between families is not getting through. This is a problem that leads to many more problems in the long run because communication is the key to any good parent/children relationship.

   A common misconception by a large amount of parents, who work extended hours and are home less, is that they think they talk to to their children about values and advice on a frequent basis, when in fact, this is not the case. A survey conducted by the YMCA stated that 68% of parents frequently talk to their children about values and beliefs, while only 34% of the children agreed that they are having conversations about values on a frequent basis. The same disconnected perception can be seen on important issues like sex, dating, drugs and alcohol, and future plans. Strangely enough, the survey mentioned the fact that as teens get more sexually active, the less their parents talk to them about sex. It seems that the older the child gets, the less parents communicate with them about certain topics that need to be addressed ( Talking With Teens: The YMCA Parent and Teen Survey Final Report ).

                          What is to be done about this? Should parents find new jobs in which they can spend more time with their children? I'm not suggesting that at all. I believe that parents just need to be more aware of the fact that they need to spend more quality time with their children. This will increase the trust and communication between families, as well as develop a child's sense of stability and security.
12th grader
Kingston, NY USA
About the author of "Where Were the Parents?": Kimberly is a high school senior who likes to speak out against issues that need attention.

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