Thanks for My Life by Isabel Polo CPN is a path That guides us to be women. It takes us from being small to big, Giving us the tools that helps us Who we want to be. Following our dreams and trusting our ways, We all grow to have a heart And mind that we use, To express in every way. We all share memories Of family, friends and fun. When we talk until the setting sun, Dancing and painting This “home” grew into our lives. The journey in life May one day be over, But the memory of us Will never change our mood. Thank you all for the support. For the love, for helping each other Get through this. For the laughs And for always having my back.
Being a Diva by Isabel Palou Rows and rows of aligned books, Untold stories waiting to be read. Drama, romance, suspense or supernatural, The 3I has them all to your liking. Dive into a vicarious adventure, Fifteen minutes before the lecture begins. Expand your vocabulary Or enter a world you never thought existed. Some call it Diva Others may call it nap time, But the opportunity to learn something new Is in your power every English class you enter.
It can be a series, maybe a bestseller, A contemporary romance or science fiction. Diva Time gives you the opportunity to open your mind And put yourself in another person’s life.
CPN Poem by Andrea Gómez A hundred years have gone by, And blue and white still stick to our hearts. So many memories, so many tears. The girls that have been here Know that the pride is real. Books and desks, We can’t wait to rest! But we know deep inside We couldn’t live without CPN. Hearing the bell fills us with joy, Eager to learn and become something more. We’ve walked together through so many years, I can’t believe senior year is already here. All of the moments we went through together, Sisters forever and friends wherever. Our distinctive uniform brings us together, We will be blue jays from now and forever. Even our lockers are full of stories, The best time together on the third floor. Good friends and a second family, “Side by side or miles apart, we’ll always be sisters at heart.”
Blue Memories By Daniela Bresciani The blue gates of the entrance Welcome me in, With expectance of tolerance For everyone within. The small tables and wooden sticks, With sharp points of carbon, Leave evidence of the trail That will lead me to stardom. For it will be hard Yet easy to let go, For my memories have stained In experiences that enjoy. Not a tear will be shed At the throw of my hat, For all my memory has held Is not near worth that. Memories of happiness Shall not be shown with cries, Because nothing worth living for Should be saluted with a sigh.
CPN Poem By Andrea Rodriguez A bell rings and a hallway bursts of blue, And laughs and voices spread around. Cries of joy, screams of happiness, But one can’t see any frowns. They enter classrooms and sit with anxiety, Eager to learn and explore. The women of tomorrow expand their knowledge Still desperate to know even more. A sea of hands fills the air, Holding doubts and seeking explanations. A teacher dries it out, Explaining history, languages or equations. This event repeats itself With women of different ages. And so they grow hand-to-hand to this school, Together overcoming many life stages. But one must clarify This is no mainstream institution, For it raises the women of the future Who will bring progress And to problems, great solutions. The women of white and blue Will forever grow without fear. CPN will continue teaching successfully Like it has done for a hundred years.
Those Were the Days By Alexandra López Chaim In the future when I leave the school, Although it may sound uncool, But I don't really care, That people may stare When I walk by, For I as a nature lover Will miss as I start over. The tree at “El Patio de Petra,” For there I sat happy or sad, And just relaxed As I heard the crumbling of the leaves And felt in my face the soft breeze. A little bird may come by And bother to try To pick up a crumb or a fry No matter how much time passes by. I will miss the moments When I just sat And looked up at the sky. How we always got together No matter the weather. Sure we got our things done And we always had fun. We got together to study And included everybody. We also reunited with friends And followed the latest trends. Even our hearts blasted with affection When we listened to One Direction. We all got our ways At "El Patio de Petra," And in a future those will be the days.
It Is and It Will Be By Maria Aurora The school bell is ringing, The classes are starting And mother is waving goodbye. I feel like a stranger. My pigtails are blonder And my tantrums are louder than hers. The diapers are bulking, The dimples are blinding And I look like a cabbage patch kid. Nobody seems to wonder, Nobody seems to care, All they do is stare. The school bell is ringing, The classes are changing And six years have just gone by. My legs are longer, My hair is shorter And I am horribly shy. I think I have friends. Is that what you might call, A thief of self-worth Who clearly wants it all? Right now I’m feeling lonely, And clearly I can’t see That some people are lovely And want to talk to me. The school bell is ringing, The stress is rising And I am barely awake. The tests are harder, My thoughts are louder; Somebody hit the brakes!
Three orbits ‘round the Sun. Will that day ever come? The day that I might cry, When to home I wave goodbye. The school bell is ringing, The classes will be ending And mother will be waving goodbye.
New School By Kianelys Heredia It’s a new school And it’s my first day. I am a little scared, But I know it will be ok. The school year has begun And it’s a time to learn, And have some fun. Make new friends, And meet new teachers. Make some memories That I will never forget. Now school days are almost over, School days are almost done, I’ve had a lot of learning, I’ve had a lot of fun. I’ll have to say goodbye to friends, I’ll have to say goodbye to teachers, I’ll have to put my books away. But it’s only until next year Because summer has just begun.
My Classes By Victoria Garrote Happiness, laugh and joy, When we enter those bright blue doors. I am ready to enjoy! The bell rings and we are off to class. We take a trip to the past. When we enter History It’s a true victory, When we figure this big mystery. One, two and three, When we enter the number world. Students keep asking, But I am sure we are learning. Hundred years have passed And we are very thrill That we keep standing still. Very proud of my school Because a hundred years are pretty cool. If we are headed up to class Don’t be the last, ‘Cause you won’t have a blast, So be sure to arrive fast. My school may be small But at heart we are pretty tall. We make unforgettable memories That we treasure ‘till the end of time.
My Days, My School By Sabrina Rodriguez Days start, School becomes part of our lives. Days end, Just to start all over again. Some feel happy Their days go nicely, Just thinking how good life can be. Some feel secluded from their minds, But try to make their day as gratifying as possible. Sometimes people feel obligated to come to school. Days pass gradually just thinking if everything may end, But people like me who enjoy school, Expect to actually learn something new every day. Dancing, painting, studying, We all had and still have a purpose. Aware of all senses, As love may become hate, Intelligent as anyone can be, It is to admit my desires and wishes. For if it’s not to leave, It is to stay. Near my school, Near my friends. May I still recall in a future Those happy days When it all started, And when it all ended. CPN will never leave my memories, For it was lovely. Although sometimes lonely, It will always remain with me.
I love my school. Some may say I’m insane, Others may agree, But CPN will always remain with me.
My School CPN By Rosario Felix I don’t like school. I despise waking up At 6 A.M. Every day For 270 days. The exams are dreadful, The people are hateful, The classes are boring, The people are snoring. But I guess I’m glad My school’s not quite like that. The exams are okay, The people say “Hey!” The classes are clever, The people are better. But even so, I despise waking up At 6 A.M. Every day For 270 days.
My Second Family By Frances Casiano My school, my second home. Yellow are the halls That we walk all day long. So long that after a while, It starts to feel like home. My friends, my new sisters. Girls laughing, girls playing, Running throughout the patio, Dancing to the music on the radio. Together as one under the blue sky, Together like the sisters we are. Encouragement and strength, Friendship and respect. Together we grow, Together we stay, Lifelong friends, Putting CPN’s name high in the sky.
My Second Home By Carolina Casalduc Walking in my black shoes and white socks, I arrive to the second home I’m glad to have. Hugs and kisses I receive, From the people who help me achieve. Blue, red and yellow lockers we have, That still treasure our great memories and laughs. Through the years time has passed, But our greatest memories will never surpass. A hundred years of great achievements That give the school a feeling of fulfillment. A big family is what CPN is, Believe me it’s worth the wish. That feeling you get when you have to leave, Makes you fill your heart with lots of grieve. Farewell to the place where I grew, It’s amazing how time flew.
School: The Novel By Carolina González School is like a novel, And you are the author. First is Kindergarten, the prologue. You arrive at school for the first time, Clinging to your mother’s legs, Begging her not to leave you alone. Afterwards it’s first, second, and third grade, The beginning of your book. Your friends all have a new doll, And if your mom doesn’t buy it for you, You’ll throw a fit because “Everyone has one, except me.” Then comes fourth, fifth, and sixth grade, The rising action of your book. New friends come into the picture And they want you to sleep over at their houses, And stay out late at boy-girl parties, and you ask Your mom for permission, hoping she’ll say yes. Later it’s seventh and eighth grade, Still the rising action, building up for the climax. Your so-called friends pressure you to talk to boys Even if you think they are immature. You’d rather stay home, Enjoying your last bits of your childhood. Then it’s ninth, tenth, and eleventh grade, The climax of your book. Those immature boys and fake friends Made you feel empty inside, they made you feel pain. Your grades started to lower, you started to feel sad, And you wondered why. Last is twelfth grade, The resolution of your book. You realize how much you’ll miss school,
Even if you thought you never would. Finally, the day has come when You can look back and say: “I survived.”
Proud of My Best Years By Sofía Concepción All day long we learn something new. From 8 A.M. to 2 in the afternoon. We laugh and cry no matter what, Always craving for more fun. Reading and writing is what we do, Don’t worry you’ll laugh too. In the theater or classroom You’ll see teachers smiling too. The uniform is what we love the most, Or maybe it’s the cheerful souls, But hearing those black shoes’ soles, Brings too much sisterly joy. As the days go by, Our time shortens time after time, Making these four years Full of cheers and tears.
Memories By Alannis Jiménez As I look back to the day it all ended, I can feel the tears coming to my eyes. It all happened so fast; it’s a blur when I think about it, So I sit here wishing I could go back to the day it all started…ninth grade. We were introduced to high school where everything would be new, I never thought it was going to be such a wild ride that unified us even more. So much work but so much fun at the same time. Ninth grade was a blast but before the blink of an eye it all ended. Tenth grade; definitely one of the hardest if you ask me. I sometimes felt like time was running out but I would shake off the feeling. My friends became my family and my school became my sanctuary. It ended and we were kind of relieved but I was yearning for younger years. All at the same time, Eleventh grade, new teachers again, time to learn new studying techniques. We were almost at the finish line and I honestly wasn’t thinking about college yet. Long nights full of work but it all paid off on weekends with my friends. I am actually enjoying school lately, I feel like these are the moments that we live for, right? I am a junior and I am definitely not looking forward to being a senior. Senior year, where time became my enemy, Where I got my most prized possession, my senior ring, Where all my hard work paid off. And now that I finished my time in my second home, I think that the most valuable lesson was to enjoy those little moments that life gave us. Now I am here in my spotlight, my graduation, Wishing I could go back to the day it all started…ninth grade.
The Theater By Camille Mercado This theater holds many memories within That start from the moment you step in. As a little child with dreams To a grown woman closing scenes. A place so majestic, Where anything is possible. In here we see dancers, so enthusiastic, And plays that can be so encouraging. For some it reminds them of their graduations, Something they cherish in their hearts. In here we see so many creations That are made with love, made up by little parts. It’s a place where we feel comfort, Where we feel safe in, like a fort. Most of our memories are here, And we will make sure they never disappear.