The Wait, of the World, on our Shoulders The waiting game Cannot be willed by skill Nor by strategy, a tragedy For those who wait until The day their praises are sung The day the prize is won Is such a day as certain As the Moon after the Sun? Food for thought, yes Churning the cerebral cauldron Of a melting pot of men Who must shoulder this burden Some men stagnate And let Time burn But his clocks will tick And his hands will turn And they will learn They were mistaken When

I wear black when I feel a certain mood — mysterious, serious, unusual. Often this feeling comes after watching a movie, when I imagine myself as a character. On those days, I become deep, as if I’m keeping a secret. But there are also days when I want pink or something bright. Then I feel a glamorous vibe, a little bit of narcissism even. Bright colors make me feel light, confident, and ready to be seen. I used to think I had to choose one side. That it was strange to be bot

Women: The kitchen is their home And their homes are their stretch Women: Their families are their lives Their furniture is their friend. Women: Dough is their glove, Their children are their purpose. But wait— Hold your breath for a minute and tie your tongue to your teeth And think. Just think. Open your eyes, broaden your mind and see; How it's Cleopatra who taught us how to lead, And how it's Zenobia who taught us how to save, How it's Kosem who showed us how she mothered

Carpe diem, Seize the day, Before your time has passed Carpe diem, Life is short, Come, no more living lark, Raise your flag and raise it high Before it is your time to die. Carpe diem, Time long past, Memories are lost for last, Stop this hurt, End it now, Come, don't go break that vow, Carpe diem, Time is short. Written by Angela Rooney, an 8th grader interested in poetry, reading, and writing.