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Mae May 2019
Boys with sisters are said to be better.
He was dim at best, yet, fooling us all.
With the grips of winter, I grew bitter.
By the end of day, my hand would sure fall.
Touch to love, to feel, with malice? I reel.
She came to me with news that bit my soul.
With my growing age, I lost my even keel.
She said, take no act but I lacked control.
In the crowded hall, I search for his face.
Languorous eyes fail, where mine had been keen.
His comfort and smiles resolved my distaste.
My hand harkened his face, a blood spat scene.
All the anger, all the rage felt in youth,
Yet the excited hand spoke an untruth.
This sonnet is based on a true event. In high school, I hit a kid because my friend told me he molested her on a camping trip.  In all honesty, I hit him because he resembled all the men that ever hurt me.
Elisabeth May 2019
they say these are the best four years of my life
and i never believed it for a second
with only weeks left
i finally understand the amazing experiences i’ve had
and the connections i’ve made and lost
i’ll never get anywhere else
these times pass through my head like a well made song
that is able to bring you to tears
with only a few notes
memories that i can never recreate
or fabricate
for once in my high school career i’m thinking
i might actually miss this
getting up at the crack of dawn
riding a bus through a foggy autumn morning
to go to classes that i hated
but that i now want to repeat
with this ending
i’m actually growing up now
Bummer May 2019
“I think she likes me, but she also might want to **** me”
i wrote this a while ago. figured i’d post it
sankavi May 2019
"high school"
the best and worst 4 years of your life

you make so many new friends
you lose so many old friends

you make new memories
as the old ones begin to fade

you have fun, go to parties
get  wasted, get grounded

old crushes to new boyfriends

looking back at it you only remember the good days

im only on my first year but i know
high school
will be the best and worst 4 years of my life
Star BG May 2019
Some children in High School
have tongues like switchblades.
Sharpened at home
in parents care.
They scar beautiful souls
trying to live in an often cruel world.

Children in High School
have tongues like cutters,
that should be left in doors mouth.
They cause pain by bulling
thinking they are immune to persecution.    

But they will learn,
as shields are formed by
those transgressed upon.

AS parents take control and
dole out punishment teaching them to
  leave their tongue bolos firearms inside.

AS people awake to not tolerate
their insensitivity and ignorance.
After all...we are all one. We are all gifted.
inspired from Mack. A gifted poet. Thanks
High school
Either
The best or
Worst days
Of your life

It’s still to be decided for me
How is or was high school?
Joilee Apr 2019
She can't look at her reflection the same way you do.
The way you squint when you stare at the sun, or the disgust on your face when you notice something revolting, it's the same way she perceives herself.
She tries her hardest to avoid anything that might have a reflection because she cannot bear the sight of herself.
You stand there happy with your clothes, hair, face, and body, yet she can't find a single feature in herself that she loves.
She's standing there watching all the guys drool over the petite, fearless girls,
in skinny jeans and a shirt that is two sizes too small for them.
She stands there pondering over the fact that these girls don't have enough self-esteem to be confident without revealing skin.
Yet here she is, in the shadows of everyone else.
Yes, she has friends. Yes, some think she shines as bright as the stars in the sky. But no one sees her in that way, the way people do when they love each other.
She has never tasted the excitement that other girls have when a boy approaches them and request to go on a date.
She stands in her group of friends comparing herself to others. She thinks she's not attractive enough or funny enough or courageous enough, or good enough.
And it doesn't help when the people pass by her and call her names. This is the girl that everyone looks over.
She is always the last choice or the girl you come scrambling to when you have a problem. But have you ever considered hers?
Yes, you question her if she's ok. Yes, you ask her what's wrong. But you never get the truth.
Can't you notice the lies that appear out of her mouth, the way the words roll off her tongue as though she has rehearsed it a thousand times? No, because you don't listen, you only hear.
You stand there judging her because she only has three pairs of jeans or the fact that she wears a sweater every day to hide the scars of her sorrow.
You can't see that she's broken but at the same time full of life.
You stand there watching her laugh, smile, mess around yet it's a lie.
The biggest lie she ever lets someone believe.
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