Spaulding Highschool

If I could live here in Vermont in ten years to be perfectly honest I wouldn't because after I graduate from highschool I plan to go off to college to become a fashion designer . In ten years I see myself I see myself living in the city like Manhanttan or even Los Angeles. But I personally think that if I were to live here in ten years I would think that Vermont is the right place to be to raise a family because Vermont is a peaceful an quiet place !

A walk in my shoes . . .

By Samantha Muzzey
Spaulding High School, Grade 10

I may never know what it’s like to walk in your shoes.
I don’t know how hard it is for you too hit all the bumps in the road and take a digger to the ground. I don’t know how much harder it is for you to get right back up. I won’t know what it's like to experience the blisters that ache and ache till you can’t stand it anymore. I can’t forget the athlete’s foot, so unbearable you can hardly breathe. Each and every step you take is different from each and every step I take. My route is different than your route. You may never know what it's like to walk in my shoes.

**This is a poem that I wrote when I was a freshman. Four years later and nothing's been changed. Ok, maybe a little grammar errors-- but other than that nothing. **

White and glittery
Cold and blustery
The lights on houses get you in the mood

Slowly making your way to
The wreath covered door
As you waltz in with
Your red nose and a bag of presents
The coldness is abruptly swept away

You’re in a home full of fragrance
Maybe it’s the overwhelming
Smell if Gingerbread cookies or
The fresh Apple pie
Just pulled out of the oven with care

You long for that long lasting
Cup of Eggnog
And to curl up
Next to the crackly and toasty fire
With the tree before you
The lights glistening like wildfire
The ornaments
Red and green galore
Full of string popcorn
And red delectable berries
The sent of fresh pine fills the air
Christmas is here!

The house is soon
Filled with jolly Christmas songs

Life of a Slave

By Taylor Arsenault
Spaulding High School, Grade 12

August 4th, 1860
As I look back on my life now, I realize how it could have been better. I was a slave from the beginning. My name is Jeffrey Thomas. My owner gave that name me. I was born on March 12th, 1820 in an old wooden shack on the plantation where my mother lived.

The earliest memories I have are when I was 10. I had no family on the farm that I lived on because I had been sold when I was 2 years old. My master told me that my mother died giving birth to me and that my father had been hanged for trying to escape from the plantation. I have no brothers or sisters that I know of. Not having any family has always made me feel alone, even to this day. I’ve never been able to become close with anyone. Growing up without any family had made me hold my feelings in and kept me alone.

True Friends hold me up when I'm down , Are the ones I can trust

When someone talks behind my back , without cutting me some slack ,
A true friend is there in a time of need ,

Their here to stay , and here to play
But eventually in the end , True friends come an go , Towards the end I know my true friend

I am from Pogs, From playing with hula hoops at elementary school recess, And from long games of T.V. tagafter dark in my back yard.

I am from basic thugnostics 101 with my big sister who I idolized, From war heads so sour my head could explode, And from "Stay away you have cooties".

I am from Ren and Stimpy marathons and Stone Cold is so dreamy, From secretly staying up late to watch adult swim T.V. shows, And from "I cant tell you dad, I promised my imaginary friend i wouldn't give you your keys back".

This is me, my life as a youngen, Seems like these things happened yesterday, but now i realize they are just memories that are here to stay.

I am from the waves of Martins Pond, and the breeze that gently pushes it.
I am from the smell of pancakes, and coffee in the morning.
I am from the big tree that fell in front of our home.
I am the color changes from summer to autumn.
I am from the "clicking" and "clacking" of hungry hungry hippo, or the "pop, pop, pop" noise from trouble.
I am from the bedtime stories, and the "goodnight my little angel."
I am from the stinging of the needle, with the tears rolling down my cheeks.
I am from the the playing, and not listening when it was suppose to be naptime.
The memories will never fade, and they will continue to grow.

The leaves may fall from my family tree, but many will blossom.

I love this stuff. God it is so good!
I don’t even have to knock on wood.
I get the same thing,
Each time that bell rings.
I wish this place looked like it should.

My super hero is no Superman, or Batman, or even Cat Women.
My super hero has no powers.
My super hero can’t read minds, or pick up heavy objects.
But her will is as strong as the Incredible Hulk.
And she can make a difference in this world.
She can’t retrieve people from a fire.
She cannot reach the little girl in the well.
She can’t even swim out to save someone.
Spider webs won’t shoot from her fingers.
And she most definitely cannot climb up a building.
For she stumbles when she walks.
But she can make a difference in someone’s life.
My super hero made a difference in my life.
Her smile could take all the hate out of the world.
My superhero with her unrealistic superhero ways saved me.
She made a difference in my world.
In my life.
And that is better than any superpowers any superhero has.