MPitS  

Fort Bragg High School
2006/2007

 

Brain Storm

In this World: inside my head is

- the only place for me-

Drip,

Drip, Drip-

Blood, Sweat, and Tears

-All in Drops-

Love, Life, and Religion

-All in Drops-

Pain, Loss, and Sacrifice

-All in Drops-

Peace, Harmony, and Beauty

-All in Drops-

Affliction, Bigotry, and Criticism

-All in Drops-

Rejoice, Praise, and Respect

-All in Drops-

These drops make up our lives, our souls

Each one rippling the surface and altering our appearance

You can greet them or disregard them with an umbrella of nescience

Whichever you choose, remember to be wise because these drops make up our world

Drip

Drip

Drip  

Jamiee W
12th Grade, Fort Bragg High School
Lavender Grace Kent, Poet-Teacher




The Diner                                

Who is the man that

Has just walked into

my place of piece?

"Hey'a doll face!" He says

so arrogantly as if it were

my name This man

which I know not

His name with presence

as strong as a rhino wears

A chalky white hat with a

velvety black ribbon His suit

a dark cold night

navy, crisp and clean

His smell of fresh

after shave fills the

diner he thinks he

knows something about

me he doesn't, he doesn't even know

I am judging with every second of silence that passes?

What deep hole has

he come out of

His face looks hard as rocks jagged with no smooth

edges aged and worn His eyes

lonely and empty the still peacock

blue says nothing they give no

hints or clues they share only

mystery And who is this man

buying me a drink? Does he

think I am not capable of buying

my own?   Does he not see the

pearly white mug sitting beside

me?

He sees nothing this man

Is cursed

with no chance                                                      

to repair

This man is blind

with no chance   to see the many beauties

and colors I SEE

this man is blind!

Geneva C
12th Grade, Fort Bragg High School
Lavender Grace Kent, Poet-Teacher


Sands of Time

At the dunes of sand

I lay and look over all the land

the cool breeze blows

and still I have sand between my toes

On the king of the dunes rests a flag

It was crafted from a clothen bag

Many contrasts lie there

Like different colors in your hair

The sun beats hot during the day

But at night it goes away

For miles and miles you can explore

Nothing but sand upon its floor

At these dunes lie no distractions

Just a lot of time to think of your actions

You're always running in my mind

Forever running

In the sands of time

Brian C
12th Grade, Fort Bragg High School
Lavender Grace Kent, Poet-Teacher


Does it scare you who I am?

Does it scare you who I am?

For the person looking at you is nothing but a shell.

If only my lips could tell you what my eyes have seen, but the fear

that you would

run and not return

plays over and over

in my mind.

If only my lips could tell you what my ears have heard, but those words

can leave you senseless

or even fill you

with despair.

If only my lips could tell you what my heart has felt, but the emotions

are too great.

One minute so alive, the next like Jell-O - unable to move

by your own free will but

moved by any other force.

But the clock has ticked and this is the person time has molded me to be.

If you're willing to find out who this is

then let me know you are there

For you never truly know until you find out

So, does it scare you who I am?

Tati N
12th Grade, Fort Bragg High School
Lavender Grace Kent, Poet-Teacher




To Label My Hickie

Don't label my hickie Its mine it should have the

label I give it

            some say its trashy

Don't label my hickie Its mine it is what it is to me

            some say it sloppy

Don't label my hickie Its mine , to name it as I please

            Some call it a brand as if I were cattle

Don't label my hickie Its mine , it's a way of my expression

            Some call it a hater mark

Don't label my hickie Its mine , the person that ever so

lovingly placed it on my body is hardly a hater

            I call it a mark of passion

It is mine ! A sign that I have chosen to be accepting of

the feelings that have been trust upon me

Don't label my hickie Its mine!

Geneva C
12th Grade, Fort Bragg High School
Lavender Grace Kent, Poet-Teacher


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