Ossia Dwyer

Voting

By Ossia Dwyer
Hartford Memorial Middle School, Grade 8

-Presidential Inauguration Speech-
Announcer: “And the new president of the United States of America is…………….. Mr. Anthony Tiger!!??"
Crowd: “Oh my gosh!” “Did you vote?” “No I didn’t. I don’t know anybody who did.” “I kind of wish I did now.” “How is he president again?”
President: “People of the former United States, coming into my third term as president I plan to make a lot more changes after changing many of the laws, like how many terms a president can serve and how the Senate is elected. I know many of you think I have spent more time selling and advertising my cereal, Frosted Flakes©, but I really care about our country the new Frosted States of America.

Why am I so misunderstood? Just because I am an older woman and have a couple warts in the middle of my face, I am a witch? Just because I don’t get mail, have an interest in ancient brooms, and have five or six black cats, it does not make me a witch.
I like normal things too. I like gardening; I just haven’t gotten around to getting rid of the dead flowers or rotting dead tree. I like to sit under that tree and watch as no one goes up or down the street and listen to the quietness that is all around me.

Act 1:

How could I not have
Seen the signs those years ago
Why did they pass me?
I was so young but I was smart
Why did they pass me?
I could have sworn it
Was just a back problem
And he recovered.
Why did it take three
Years for me to realize
He was in danger?

Act 2:
It came over time
That he could have died but he
Didn’t, luckily.
“A lot of other
People had it too and some did
And some didn’t.”
I thought back to
The casseroles and dinners
And the looks we got,
The hospital stays
And the chemo therapy
Helped him recover.

Act 3:
Now he is better
Five years celebrated with a
A Hawaii stay.
There are still visits
But only good ones that just
Check with scans and blood
Just the same as other
People except he is a
Survivor, fighter.
He is in the hall
Of fame for silent heroes that
I will not forget.

Up above your head so high
Colorful monsters in the sky.
Leaves scattering on the branches
Waiting for their final chances.
To turn colors and flutter down
Leaving the tree without a crown
To finally rest upon the ground.

Trees so lush and thinly shaped.
Their branches protected by a cape
Some trees end while others grow
But soon enough there will be snow.
Then the trees will make new friends
But their old friends will come again.
Their sacred friendship will never end

The ground below is dark and moist
Some plants will sadly have no choice
But to stay forever close to the soil
While the trees slowly coil.
To the upward, unknown sky
But still the plants hopelessly lie
Oblivious to the level eye.

I was running through the woods when I first spotted it. A dainty, little sparkling dot just sitting on a big cumbersome rock. It almost seemed as if that little dot was crying out for me to come and circle it like in those ‘what doesn’t belong’ games.

Tests

By Ossia Dwyer
Hartford Memorial Middle School, Grade 7

“OK, class. This test is meant to test your knowledge of the theories. I hope you studied!” says my perky yet highly annoying teacher. Does she really care if we do well or not?
I was hoping for a snow day or a fever or malaria. I would have studied really hard and even maybe paid attention in class but the hottest guy sits right in front of me. I spent all yesterday night talking to him online. How was I supposed to study? Does my teacher not know anything about teenagers? Maybe I will be able to just conjure it up. OK, 2x+72>3x-12, solve for x. Is faking a seizure too dramatic? I know. I will fake a headache, then wander around the building. Oh great, the teacher noticed I wasn’t working. She is walking over here. Concentrate.
“An emergency has been reported in this building!! Please cease operation and leave, utilizing the nearest exit or fire exit!!” came onto the speakers, blasting our eardrums out. I ran out of the room as fast as I could. Anything to get out of that test and try to study or sleep.

Backyard

By Ossia Dwyer
Hartford Memorial Middle School, Grade 7

The backyard is a mysterious place
And that is where I found the case.
It said open in fifteen years,
I wanted to be able to go near.
Things from the past that historians overlooked,
Things that you can’t find in a book.
Personal memories all locked away,
And put in my backyard because they knew it would stay

As I open the closet, I see all the things that have happened in my past. There are all the embarrassing things, all the sad and happy things. Look!