Group Poem 2016 2

Girls with Dragons and Teenage Blues


I.                                                Evy Holmes


What is your life? Describe

you in seventy-two

syllables or fewer:

Well, I would say, “Dragons.”

Nothing means more to me

than my baby dragon.

Her name is Echo. She’s

my spirit animal.

She rarely ever moves

unless she’s hungry, and

she really likes to nap.

Oh, and I go to school.


II.                                               Sara Lundeen


What do you want to be

after you graduate?

I’d want to be a whale,

maybe an alien

with fiery orange hair

and light violet skin,

but I guess I’ll settle

for being a person

that puts up with people’s

stupidity, hot tea,

and really bad tasting

cherry cough medicine.


III.                                              Olivia McCain


What have I accomplished?

I learned to take selfies;

to strive for perfection,

good writers never stop.

I can polish my work

like I polish my nails.

I can write to music,

and still I remain sane.

I’m not afraid to share;

to open up my mind.

The hardest part of this

is leaving it behind.


IV.                                               Abby Waldo


Will I ever be more

than just a basic girl?

Black leggings and tan Uggs;

my daily uniform.

Re-watching episodes

of Grey’s Anatomy,

sipping on my Starbucks:

a pumpkin spice latte.

All this is part of me;

I never want to change.

I express my feelings

through dog filter selfies.


V.                                                Abby Cleveland


What color is my life?

Brushing with red toothbrush

watching Orange alone

bread with yellow butter

trying on green short shorts

sleeping in my blue bed

reading indigo books

wearing violet glasses

failing my white math test

watching Black on TV.

VI.                                               Jade Gonzalez


My shimmering sky high

thoughts mix ditch deep doubts churned    

in hurricaned chaos

into sweet nothing crumbs.

Screamed whispers dabble in

acoustic collages

between my ringing ears.

Are the voices in your

head this loud, too? Scary

how common sensations

can differ among souls

holding mental time bombs.


VII.                                             Tessa Wagener


And after these two weeks,

I’m still stuck on writing.

The people around me,

create brilliant things,

but Gary keeps talking,

and I lose my focus,

forced to write this dumb piece.

Please, help! When is break time?


VIII.                                           Maddie Cervera


Where am I going? Mom

stands on paper mountains, 

stressing for decisions.

My dad pretends I am

still in the sixth grade. He

acts as if we have years

and years to make choices.

My mom would love to see 

me become a doctor;

maybe someday I will,

but the pressure could eat me

alive before I can. 


IX.                                              Liv O’Clair


I am the Snapchat queen.

‘Lemme take a selfie.’

Night or day, I have more

than twenty Snapchat streaks.

‘Use all of the filters,’

that's what I like to say.

‘Just remember, no one

appreciates a fake.’

My Story is always

screenshotted by the boys.

I just have one question,

‘Hey, fam, what’s your Snapchat?’

X.                                              Jasmin Wengler

Why does the world exist?

Was it made for humans,

who destroy it daily.

Perhaps we are all not

meant to be and the Earth

was made simply to be

forgotten, floating in

the blackness of space! I

want to matter. I want

more than just birth and death,

the inevitable.


XI.                                          Anna Stenka


Who am I? As I leave

home, I question the things

I’ve known. ‘Where should I go?”

and ‘Where do I belong?’

My only solace: I

know I am not alone.

So I’ll pack up beanies,

glass angels, and paintings,

leaving my past in dust.

I’m in no rush to find

these answers, instead I’ll

live life in enigma.


XII.                                        Cora Lu Welton


Wearing a raspberry

beret, I sip sweet tea

and cry on my laptop.

Grey’s Anatomy is

real this season. Without

Yukon, my creative

juices run dry. How will

I write? Thoughts of nothing

but Boston, and what I

will leave behind, and the

future dominate my

restless mind. This is it.