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1.5k · Mar 2014
Mr. West
Noah Mar 2014
Believe it or not, I started these thoughts in the shower
And I went right to work, didn’t want it to sour
Thinking about life and such, like one does in the loo
I had this idea in my head that just started to brew


See, when one thinks of a poem, most simply think rhyme
However, most poems don’t rhyme all the time
Some simply rhyme like a hint of lime with your Sprite


Wait, Sprite? That wasn’t close enough
As a matter of fact, it really sounded quite rough
But you see this pattern of rhymes that I have created
Has made you hunger for rhymes and it just can’t be sated
So I will stick to rhymes because I have created a rhythm
And I will try to be as creative as I can with ‘em


Now, how ‘bout I tell you a little about me?
I have a family of five, I’m middle child of three
I play hockey and lacrosse, and I hit off the tee
Always lived in New Hampshire, represent 603


West High is my school, that’s why I’m up here
Competing to be Mr. West for the year
Others are up to show off their skill
But to be honest, I am doing this to test my own will


You see, I have always been the reluctant type
I have never been one to get caught in the hype
In all truth, I believe one of my greatest fears
Is to be judged or ridiculed by all of my peers


So here I stand, in front of all of you
I have broken the veil of doubt, let my colors shine through
But back to the fun, my purpose now clear
For I have shown to you I no longer fear


My mom and I have a nickname for me
The “high school oxymoron” it is, you see
I play  some sports, which I told you earlier
I’m 2nd in the class, but I’m no Vernier
I’m also a Catholic kid, praise be to God
As you can see, my experience has become quite broad
And let’s not forget, the band I adore
For without music, life would be a bore

But enough about me, let’s talk about West
Some even call this school the best
I agree with them, this place isn’t bad
Some just talk poorly about it, but I think  it’s rad

Some people say, “Well, our sports ****!”
And I agree to a degree, but it’s sort of good luck
Whereas other schools have tryouts, and teams make cuts
Everyone who wants to can play, if they have the guts

And let’s not forget Commander’s cadets
Because the only ROTC program in the city’s at West
Or how about our students blue-and-white armored
Two of the last for tops in the class went to Harvard

We also have musical talent, no one can debate
And it shows with our track record of attending All-State
So I hope that these lines have helped you to see
That West is a perfectly great place to be

Time to wrap this up, however you should know
I really hope you all enjoy this show
And to all the contestants, I wish you the best
As we all compete for the title, Mr. West.
This poem I use as my talent for a male's pageant at my high school called Mr. West. It's a pageant that the senior guys put on and basically make a fool of ourselves doing it.
602 · Mar 2014
The Human Sickness
Noah Mar 2014
I’m sick.
But not the type of sick that you would think.
This sickness is more subtle than a stuffy nose
Yet it is more common than the common cold
This sickness does not manifest with a cough or sneeze.
Yet this sickness can bring grown men to their knees.
No, this sickness affects the mind while the body still looks fine.
Time to time, this illness exits my mind and lets me think clearly,
For a while.

But not long after, this plight infiltrates my thoughts.
It corrupts my clarity, it cuffs my creativity.
It rots my intuition, my motivation, my contemplation.
Everything becomes negative, optimism seems to fade,
But I am not alone in bearing this burden.

You see, I believe everyone suffers from this sickness.
For everyone has their own weakness.
Symptoms include, but are not limited to laziness, doubt, fear, apathy,
Complacency, worry, and indifference.
There is no scientific term for this, no special words to explain,
It’s just the human sickness, and it’s in everyone’s brain
560 · Mar 2014
Why Not?
Noah Mar 2014
A few months into the school year, I ran into a friend I hadn’t seen in a while
We got to talking and she asked, “How’s senior year?”
I told her, “Well, I’m having fun but it’s stressful.”
“Why?” she asked.
I said, “Well, all this college stuff is stressful, and having a full schedule isn’t helping.”
She said, “Why a full schedule? It’s your senior year, why try so hard?”

I don’t exactly remember what I answered, probably some generic response, but I didn’t think much of it.

Later though, I thought about that question.
It came back like waves lapping against my mind over and over again.
“Why try so hard? Why try so hard? Why try so hard?”
Well, why not?

Why not try hard?
Why not pack my schedule?
Why not focus on getting to college?

I mean if I’m going to pay all this cash for class, shouldn’t I be prepared to pass?
Then again, maybe it’s just me.
Maybe it’s absurd to be ready.
I mean, who wants to be ready for what’s to be?
Well, I suppose the answer to that question would be
Me

I, for one, want to be prepared.
And it seems like our generation doesn’t want that.
We squander what we are given and procrastinate like it’s religion
We love mottos like “Carpe Diem”
Yet the only thing we seize is the seat of our pants and we fly by it continuously
We strive for excellence, yet settle for mediocrity
If life was a mountain, we are content at sitting at the halfway lodge, never quite seeing the beauty from it's peak.

Maybe we aren’t to blame, maybe it’s not our shame.
Maybe we are victims of circumstance just looking for recompense.
We can’t control what happens to us, but one thing is for sure.
We control how we react.

See, we like to play the victim.
Pity parties are the popular theme
“Oh poor me, my life *****.”
Maybe that’s true, maybe your life does ****.
You might think you never have good luck.
But though your life might be covered in muck,
All you have to do is push through to get unstuck.

We need to take back our lives, we need to strive for something more.
Deprive the naysayers of satisfaction; try.
Try hard.

It might not be glamorous, it may not be hip,
But blood, sweat and tears are definitely worth the trip.
If we can break the monotony of complacency
If we can do away with apathy and replace it with productivity.
We can do whatever we could possibly dream of.

So to everyone asking “What’s the use? Why try?”
I promise you it is worth it.
When you do something for yourself, you fight back against the doubtful.
Be a tryhard, be a freak, be obsessed with your passions.
The outside world will call you these names, but they are jealous.
They will tear you down because they see you fighting back.
They see you doing something that they only dream of.
They want to have the same fervent desire to be better.

The saying “you only live once” becomes obsolete when you try.
Yolo has been turned from it’s true meaning into “do stupid things”
Get there and experience the world, show them what yolo stands for really

Pack your schedule
Feel free to always be busy
Because you only have one life, so live the one you got
That way, when they say, "why?"
You can say
"Why not?"
464 · Mar 2014
Sticks and Stones
Noah Mar 2014
“If you play baseball, you’re gay.” he said with a stupid grin on his face.
And that time, I had had enough.
I told him, “Shut up, I am tired of hearing you say that.”
For this wasn’t his first time using gay as an insult.
I should have said more.

I should have told him that to him, it’s just a word,
But to those of the homosexual community, it is demeaning.
The fact that our society has become alright with allowing a term that defines something life changing like one’s ****** orientation as a term of slander means one thing.

Our dictionary is out of date.

Our dictionary is out of date because words like gay, ***, queer, and ****** are common practice
We let these words flow from our mouths like a river that has broken through a dam.
They are ceaseless, coming forth without an end in sight.
But they are just words, right?
Stick and stones, right?

Wrong.

It is true that sticks and stones break bones, but not so much that names will never hurt anyone.
Because they do.

They may not hurt you or me, but you and I have thick skin, our skin is armor clad.
But not all were fortunate enough to get a such an impenetrable epidermal layer.
Some only received paper to cover the flesh and bones they call a body.

So you may say “sticks and stones may break my bones, but names will never hurt me,”
but to those with paper skin, they have never had sticks or stones cut so deep as words have.
A stick can not scar your soul, a stone can not ******* your self image.
But words can affect someone for life.

I know this is true because I know teenagers who it has happened to.
I know a girl who is one of the most beautiful young women I have seen
But she believes otherwise because inspite of my telling her so
She has been a victim hiding in the bombshelter of insults for far too long
Without makeup she does not feel pretty, when she is sick she wants no one to see her face.
She has become a statistic in a society that thinks sticks and stones is a one-size-fits-all policy.




Or what about all of the men, women, and children who take their own lives every day?
Or even the one’s who take their paper skin and shred it with a razor blade?
Try telling them that names will never hurt them, try telling them that they don’t need to do what they do
Try telling them that they are beautiful.
Because I can almost guarantee you that they will tell you
“You’re wrong”

— The End —