I hear the hadedas call As I lie in my bed. They announce the sun’s arrival, Their songs echoing in my heart. The early morning sunlight streams in, And the dogs sneak into my room, Begging for a little bit of love. I rise with the hot African sun, And

Written by Mateo Garzon The needle dragged against the spinning wheel We sat at the table and delt the cards You spilt some of your wine on my table 4We locked our eyes, and there it was Certainly uncertain, knowing only what we know But fairly certain on the uncertain

[Does it do you well] to be Angry?                         To beat until your Fists are bloody?                         To rage until your Heart burns down?                         To spit venom until your Soul sours?             Why do you hold on?             Why try to Grip the fire? Why try to Burn to

By Isaac Stiles In a faraway land, in a cave of the earth, Dwelt a dragon most foul, a devourer of men. It brought many to death e’en while promising mirth, For the dragon would lie to bring prey to its den. I was one who did hear it while

Written by Greg Phillips Concussed was I, in bed with greatest pain; The noisy world ravaged my injured mind. I planted Peace to soothe my aching brain; Silence grew near, but Peace I did not find. The busy days and weary nights ran on; Though healed of mind, anxiety abounds.

Written by Abigail Wagher It had been thirty-two days since the sun had died and the shadow drought began. At least, they thought it had been thirty-two days. Without the sun, it had grown hard to keep track. Now there was just a constant state of starlight. A boy did

Why is it easier to hurt the ones you love the most? In the middle of America’s Heartland, a small town in Indiana named Corehart sat. People boasted of its talent–a contrast to its small size–because everything made there didn’t just come from the townsfolk’s hands, it came from their

Written by Isabelle Portis For seven nights in a row, screaming matches in his parents’ bedroom kept Oliver awake. The weight of their war threatened to crush him as their words struck one another and the debris fell upon his shoulders. He knew that something had to be done, and

I want to be like the sun. Each morning, I wake up, and the sun greets me with a glorious wave, with streams of pinkish light reaching down to wipe the sleep off my face. As the day goes on, the sun grows warmer, smiling down on my little life,

St. Patrick’s Day is a rather curious holiday. People are decked out in green or dressing up like leprechauns, sparkly clovers are in every CVS, cops are tearing their hair out (what little the male ones are allowed to keep) performing DUI stops, and the bars are brimming to their