8

Where I'm From

By Brittney Crawford
Rutland Middle School, Grade 8

I am from a woman
from a man that once were in love

I am from a true love
from a broken heart

I am from a thousand memories
from the many to come

I am from a first kiss
from a last good bye

I am from laughter
from my family

I am from the heart
from me

The Future

By Rory Tafuto
Woodstock Union Middle School, Grade 8

What does the future hold for us?
Smog filled skies and poison cars
And broken land with useless dust
And nature’s beauty behind bars?

Can I ever show my kids
(if they ever come my way)
The beauty of a sunset
At the end of the day?

Can I walk into a forest
And surround myself with trees
Yet know that it will remain
For me to visit as I please?

I know that I can today
Do all the things I’ve said
But when today is yesterday
Will all these things be dead?

Is every little thing
We care about so much
Not worth it in the end
Since we’re making such a big fuss?

Can I walk outside my house
On any average day
And breathe in the cool, fresh air
Safe for me to stay?

Will the earth come crumbling down
Just from our own race
And all the creatures suffer
Because we didn’t solve this case?

What luxury is worth this damage
Including your own car?
When every thing suffers

She Stands There

By Shannon Moriarity
Benson Village School, Grade 8

She stands there
Words spilling from her mouth
Creating a pool of lies around her.
Drowning anyone who gets too close
Making them believe
Every word she speaks
Every lie she tells.
They fall for her trap
Fall for her lies.
She stands there
A pen in hand
As she scribbles out the truth
With words of her own.
The paper’s tacked to the wall
For everyone to see
For everyone to believe
That the real truth is fake.
That’s she right
We’re wrong.
When it’s the other way around.
She stands there
Taping over our mouths
So we can’t speak
So we can’t prove her wrong.
Our screams are silenced
To just a whisper behind the door.
She stands there
Blocking us from getting through.
A barrier keeping out the truth
Forcing us into the shadows
Into the corner.
She stands there
Pushing us off the cliff.
And we keep falling
Farther and farther.
Until we crash far below her.
Defeated.

Awkward Love

By Rebecca White
Hartford Memorial Middle School, Grade 8

I sit here swinging
My feet back
And forth over the
Concrete barrier.

The sweating summer air
Kissing my tanned
Hot skin.

As the fireflies buzz by
In a bright flurry
Of translucent wings.

Zipping past my knees
As I throw dandelion petals
Into the deep river water.

The contrast of the thoughtful
Wise water
And
The anxious passionate
Air
Seems to mix at the surface
Pooling my emotions
At its face.

I hear the crunch of sandals
On twigs as
I move my hair behind
My ears.

The noise gets closer
And I turn
Around To see
Him.

Mathew is standing over me
smiling.

His hands in his pockets
Trying to look casual.
His blond hair is shaggier than
During school months.
He has sun freckles on his nose
Like a little wingspan
Over his cheeks.
“Hey.”

“Hey.”

He sits beside me looking
Out over the river.

He looks at me and smiles again.

This Isn't Supposed to Make you Cry

By Maria Burt
Castleton Village School, Grade 8

The kind of merriment my friends and I had was unthinkable. We laughed until we cried. I know we’re getting ready to go to off into the world and we’re just about ready for graduation, but I’ll never forget these last years. The secrets we shared, the laughs we laughed, the tears we cried, the things we saw, and the friendships that were made stronger.
Soon, we’ll go our separate ways. I don’t want this to come to an end, but it has to. We’ve never been closer, but it’s hard to think that I may never see some of my closest friends ever again. We’ll get through this year and hopefully stay in touch. Maybe we won’t be this close anymore, but we still have each other somewhere in our hearts.

One Last

By Samantha Burns
Fairfield Center School, Grade 8

One last walk
Side by side
Down the aisle
No one talks

One last speech
Diploma time
Brisk handshakes
Smile wide

One last hug
After so many years
We’re freshmen now
So cheer!

T.H.E. P.E.R.F.E.C.T. D.R.E.S.S.

By Eli Millman
Fairfield Center School, Grade 8

Time is running short!
How will I ever find it?
Every store is bare

Prom is just around the corner!
Everyone has one except me…
Running from store to store,
Finally I come upon a treasure!
Elegant and unique
Colors like the setting sun
Taffeta and silk.

Drapes over me, fitting to a tee
Reminiscent of spring’s first bloom
Everyone’s looking at me
Sashaying across the dance floor
Sure I found the perfect dress!

Awkward Rose

By Eric Suder
Browns River Middle School, Grade 8

As I sit in the booth
My eyes search for the one I love
A most beautiful angel from above
The one I pray for on stars at night
The only one for me
As she enters this magnificent place
I see the beautiful smile on her face
I give her my awkward rose
And hope she feels the same
As I see her face light up
I know that’s why she came
Because love is just an awkward rose
Waiting for a day to shine
Now I am starting to see
I am hers and she is mine

My Grandmother

By Amber Boyce
Hartford Memorial Middle School, Grade 8

My grandmother sits, hair permed to perfection. She has gray hairs playing peek-a-boo in a mass of brunette dye.
My grandfather sits in his chair, his snow white hair tightly around his head. His glasses barely cling to his face as he leans over his paper.
Sentimental feelings wrapped in the splendor of romance can make time stand still.

Grammy "M"

By Molly Mead
Hartford Memorial Middle School, Grade 8

I’d go to your house when I was little
And you would always give me those vanilla wafers.
The Red Sox would always be on the TV.
And sometimes you would be playing solitaire on your table
Listening to the game instead of watching it.
Your house smelled like cigarette smoke
But that didn’t bother me too much
It was just the best to be at your house.
When I was done with my vanilla wafer
I would run up your staircase
There were tons of rooms to play in
And each time was like a new adventure.
There was a bell that I would ring and
You’d yell up the stairs and tell me to stop.
And I would giggle and run into a new room
I’d be up there for what seemed like hours.
I miss those days, I miss you.

Grandfather

By Mindy Yeung
Hartford Memorial Middle School, Grade 8

The nice warm smell lingers in the air.
Chairs and tables made of red wood sit silently on the cold marble floor.
Small breezes run lightly around the chair Grandfather used to rest in.
Now, his comfortable presence is gone
Along with the shine in his eyes.
His loud energetic laugh floats away
And all there is left
Is the warm smell of scented essence.

Grandma

Alicia Cerasoli
Hartford Memorial Middle School, Grade 8

I gaze out the shining bright window
Soft blue sky stares back.
I sit on her lap and listen.
I listen to her rich, love-filled voice.
She rocks me and sings me a song.
Time pauses around me
Nothing else matters.
The homey smell of
Fresh, warm, chewy cookies
Lingers through the air.
Grandpa sits still reading the paper
In the den.
She sings to me that a bumble bee
Will come and give me love and joy.
She cradles her soft, old hands
Around my body and hums.
I get a warm feeling in my heart and it spreads
Inside-
Out.

A poem for her

By Ken McFadden
Leland and Gray Union High School, Grade 8

Here without you
My heart's been broken in two
In this endless pit of misery
It’s unbelievable
The way I feel about you
After my heart's been broken in two
I knew you were the one
The moment I saw you
I knew we could make it through
Without a doubt in my mind
Who knew we would climb so high
To the top of the sky
You and I
I never knew you could be so cruel
Those bright blue eyes
Will never look at me
The way they used to.

I looked at you
You looked at me
At that moment
I knew we were meant to be
You took my breath away
But then you turned away
When you come around
I act like a clown
You look at me
Like there’s nothing to see
I look at you with my heart in agony.

In this world I find so divine
I cannot find a place in my mind
To tell you the way I feel about you
But let me tell you
You don’t even have a clue
But that’s OK
Maybe if I look deep enough

An Unknown Story

By Rachel Dubois
Benson Village School, Grade 8

This paper is blank
Waiting for words
To be written
On its lines
For my thoughts
To be spilled
Into phrases
To be read later
To the unknown
It stares back at me
But I can’t think
Of what to say
Deep inside
Are thoughts
That I won’t
I can’t
Tell
But it’s waiting
Patiently
For me
To confess
My story
That I
Refuse to share…

Waiting to be Found

By Becca Daniels
Williston Central School, Grade 8

I stand there, barely moving
Feeling lost and confused
Waiting to be found
Standing there
While the rest of the world continues to move around me
Moving more quickly than usual
They’ve all found themselves
They know who they are
And who they want to become
But what about me
As I stand there
Still not sure exactly who I am
Not really sure what I want to be
Waiting…
To be found.