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Emily Chambers Aug 2016
Last year
Of a new year
In a new place
In a new school.

Next year
In the first year
In a new place
In a new school.

Nothing changes.
Maple Mathers Feb 2016
As a footnote, I’ve always held a certain regard for those plentiful fruits. Raspberries. Small and juicy and sweet. Quick and easy.

Now, it’s apples on the other hand I heavily despise.

To eat an apple is to make a commitment. Society generally frowns upon those who eat half an apple, just to toss out the rest. And most people are not exactly bargaining for your leftovers once they’re brown and teeth marked. Apple eating is a long and rigorous ordeal. Halfway through, the raw parts begin to stain or dry and when you’re finally finished, you’ve still got to deal with that core and the skin that’s stuck in your teeth. Herein, apples and commitments become synonymous. Convenience, the antonym.

Raspberries, however, are miniature, and zesty, and only last for a matter of seconds.

**Not unlike ideal high school relationships.
An excerpt from my novel - Pretense.

(All poems original Copyright of Eva Denali Will © 2015, 2016.)
Lara Wan Apr 2015
Cold August mornings
chairs scraping the floor
early birds singing
chalk marks on the board

Handsome older brother
studying next door
guitar bag on your shoulder
I haven't seen before
I'm looking out the window
as you walk by
did you see me, did you know?
I was trying to catch your eye

I remember that day so clearly
like it was yesterday's memory

Warm September afternoon
face painted devil red
I see you again, I almost swoon
there are horns in my head

singing like a choir
on the school's stage
it was the dawn
of a new age
you play your guitar
and I watched from afar

I remember it all but it's fading away
I wish I could find the words to make them stay

An hour past twelve
in the month of June
I had you for ten months
it all ended so soon

I sung Christmas carols
and you played your guitar
I watched you drive home
in your daddy's old car
I thought there was a chance
I thought there could be romance

I remember how foolish I'd been
falling so easily for your crooked grin

March was just ending
we were all in white
it's a new beginning
and we survive the fight

I wanted tell you
how I felt all those years
all the things left unsaid
and all of my tears
but we parted that morning
and I never said a thing

I remember the sadness and the regret
and that last year is a year that I won't forget
Aria of Midnight Oct 2014
Instead of fawning over stars--
distant and twinkling--
feel the small blades of grass
pressing between fingers,
that remind you
of your humbling beginning.

No matter how badly you fall,
somebody working harder
will suffer an even greater wound.
This is solace
for navigating through high school
and its constant academic pressure.
Never, ever forget; be happy with your progress.

— The End —