Kids in Print 2015 Edition

2015 edition / Richland Library / Columbia, SC “Dark Matter” | Mazie Cook, Age 16

contributors Bird, Anna-Bradley ··· 43

Jeffcoat, Mika’el ··· 55

Reddy, Kerry ··· 53

Bokesch, Olivia ··· 35

Johnson, Jaycelyn ··· 25

Robichaud, Andrea ··· 39, Back Cover

Brabham, Max ··· 8

Johnson, Nathan ··· 46

Robichaud, Clover ··· 44, 49

Broughton, Sadee ··· 34

Kelly, Anna ··· 29

Salaam, Da’Quashia ··· 55

Brown, Calvin Stevick ··· 11

Lacy, Amelia ··· 9

Scher, Elliot ··· 38

Brown, Lucia ··· 23

Lanier, Michaela ··· 31

Schottelkotte, Aria ··· 15, 42

Chalfant, Kate ··· 13

Lee, Yasmin ··· 22

Shtutman, Benny ··· 18

Chen, Eric ··· 40

Lewis, Garrett ··· 5

Siwicki, Zach ··· 56

Chen, Kaylee ··· 12, 36

Maltarich, ZuZu ··· 6

Smith, Anna Lee ··· 33

Chen, Lauren ··· 16

Maxfield, Juliette ··· 7

Tarr, Caspar ··· 4

Cook, Mazie ··· Cover, 10

Miller, Brant ··· 26

Thompson, Otiana ··· 20

Cook, Walt ··· 45

Miller, Julia ··· 37

Thrasher, Diego ··· 51

Davidson, Mary Kathryn ··· 47

Moody, Sydney ··· 53

VanDenBerg, Emerson ··· 39

Davis, Alia Kemp ··· 57

Moran, McKayla ··· 47

Wachtel, Eleanor ··· 3

Day, Z-Andre ··· 25

Morgan, Chloe ··· 31

Walton, Theodore Alexander ··· 33

Ducra, Ana Grace ··· 19

Morgan, Jesse ··· 48

Ward, Damien ··· 32

Gilmore, Joseph ··· 50

Myers, Colby ··· 17

Weinkle, Adena ··· 29

Griswold, Vance ··· 24

Myers, Elizabeth ··· 56

Weinkle, Naja ··· 9

Harris, Blythe ··· 49

Myers, Timothy ··· 28

Williams. Alexandriana ··· 30

Hedley, Sarah ··· 2

Parsh, Meighan ··· 40

Williams, Jerryana ··· 6, 21

Jackman, Victoria ··· 41

Phelps, Will ··· 32

Williams, Kai ··· 54

Jackson, Aiden ··· 27

Phillips, Mallory ··· Title Page

Yisrael, Shimshon ··· 52

Jackson, Ava ··· 38

Quinn, Tristan ··· 14

2015 edition / Richland Library / Columbia, SC Untitled / Mallory Phillips, Age 15

I Am Not Writing I am not writing, I will not write, You cannot make me I won’t write if it’s the last thing I do, Not a poem, Not a story, Not anything, No, I will not I will not write, Yes, I know I am writing this poem, but from Now till tomorrow and forever more, I will not write you cannot make me.

Sarah Hedley Age 9

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The Piano A wrong note…

Wrong?

A square peg in a round hole.

A cat in a dog house.

Children screaming in the library.

Wrong.

Life, sometimes wrong.

But, E FLAT? How is that wrong?

My mom says it’s wrong, It kind of sounds wrong.

But did Beethoven really poke around the keyboard saying “Wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong—ahh! Finally!

The Right Note!”

In math there are certainties.

2+2 51 always divisible by 17 But at the piano Effort is never wrong.

The beauty of a melody, never wrong Communicating, smiling, leaning in, Shaping a phrase until it comes to a quiet end.

Giving the phrase personality and meaning— It should waltz It should tango!

It should spin around the stage It should sing and laugh Music should be somber and pleading Light or incandescent.

Playing the right notes is only half of it Playing beautiful music is all of it.

Eleanor Wachtel Age 11

Kids in Print 2015 | 3

Change Puddles in snow A New Yorker, a city kid Dogs and traveling History passed down for generations The dead I remember Baking coffee cake with mom A meat-loving family Dad—half grown-up, half kid Palmetto trees in the blazing sun A first generation Southerner, a suburban kid

Caspar Tarr Age 11

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Spaceship Earth / Garrett Lewis, Age 10

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Bridging the Gap / Jerryana Williams, Age 15

Rolling Along A car r—o—l—l—i—n—g along d—r—a—g—g—i—n—g hours on end A destination, a new start Leaving the security of the Midwest for the uncertainty of the South From cornfields to sweet tea “You guys” to “Y’all”

ZuZu Maltarich Age 10

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Adventure I am from the mud under the maple tree, Jumping in her leaves.

Chocolate chip pancakes every Sunday morning.

I am from the sweet southern smell of South Carolina and the trips I take to see family in Louisiana.

I am from the drama passed down from my ancestors and the eagerness to write.

I am from my mom and her mom saying, “Wantin’ ain’t getting,” or “It is what it is,” and “I don’t run a fair household.”

Waking up in the morning, sitting on the front porch, and drinking coffee with my dad while we read Greek myths.

I am from mixed-matched socks, black skirts, and my favorite turquoise owl shirt.

I am from living “life is like a rollercoaster, up and down, but I’m willing to take the adventure.”

Juliette Maxfield Age 10

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Max I am from white Monterey cheese in a plastic Wonder bread container, the black chair in my living room next to the computer desk.

I am from four generations of theatre and from the stuffed black monkey and the missing puppy, my treasures I am the Jewish Star of David on the flag of Israel and the History of Moshe Rabbenu who led the Jews out of Egypt.

I am the interest in the future that I long to see To be an ice cream man and a librarian in the summer.

I am the wanting of siblings, like a brother, that I never had.

I am the memories of my great grandfather who I love and miss.

Letting my mind wander over things that have happened in my life, yearning for the sound of the piano, missing friends I have lost, finding happiness and joy in this world.

Max Brabham Age 11

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Fun Flowers in a Vase / Naja Weinkle, Age 8

Red of the Coxcomb I am the smell of cornflakes in the morning and brownies in the afternoon after dinner.

I am the bright red of the coxcomb living in the backyard The hot pink of my plastic flamingo in my front yard.

I am the sharp point of my pen as I write.

Amelia Lacy Age 9

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Things Change / Mazie Cook, Age 16

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Laurel Leaf Shadows in Carrick Creek / Calvin Stevick Brown, Age 9

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Seaside Wanderings Waves relentlessly beat the shore Sand holding its ground, cool and rough at the same time I savor the feeling of calm because I’m not used to the mixed emotions raucously holding back in me.

Rising and falling the sea wavers between angry, bro ken, hurt, and dangerously calm, washing beneath my feet as I stand watching the sand the waves the sea.

Kaylee Chen Age 9

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Ocean’s Frenzy She swells and flings and rolls, Her fury manifest, Creating each wave in her giant fishbowl, Causing nothing at all but distress.

The men on their ship start to panic, But she does not offer them rest, Instead, she becomes quite lunatic, She puts the vessel to the ultimate test.

Impending doom arrives as she surges toward the boat, When suddenly the tempest clears and sun penetrates the sky, The sailors wipe their tears away for today they stay afloat, Her serenity again revealed when she lets their ship stay dry.

She helps the men float on, Without an ounce of trouble, And lands them safely on shore at dawn, Until her wrath comes once again, she will remain in a peaceful lull.

Kate Chalfant Age 15

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Life Life Natural, creative Creating, making, spreading Is intertwined and before death Is intertwined and after life Killing, infecting, destroying Natural, painful Death

Tristan Quinn Age 14

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The Walk Every time that I’m alone I’m forced to walk the halls Of memories past and people met And all my hopes and falls.

I call to those that I have loved But they’re silent in my mind.

And those I’ve fought and loathed don’t speak Though I wish they weren’t so kind.

Then I arrive at those I’ve lost Through death or chance or words.

Thus I stand cloaked in deep regret Wishing that they could be heard.

Sometimes I wonder if those who’ve lost The memories of their life Aren’t glad they don’t have to relive Their times of pain and strife.

My hour is drawing to a close And I’m without a spark.

For now I’m trapped with nothing but The thoughts that haunt the dark.

Aria Schottelkotte Age 12

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Don’t Catch Me Falling through darkness, not knowing where it leads.

Apprehensive about the destination, but yielding to my future.

Looking down in this deep abyss, the darkness seems to engulf me.

The chasm seems endless, but don’t catch me.

Weeping and sobbing, shoulders heaving with despair.

The journey makes me realize, that no one will ever feel your sorrows.

I know that hope is no longer there.

Maybe you will understand, but don’t catch me.

Lauren Chen Age 11

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Freedom Two pairs of feet Like drums they come Who harvest wheat Are drunk on rum

Running away from slavery Running away to be free Running away with bravery Running away to the sea

They are chasing a boy A boy running from them For he found no joy He would not be condemned

Running away from slavery Running away to be free Running away with bravery Running away to the sea

A ship set sail And on the ship was he Those men had failed The boy was free

Colby Myers Age 13

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1914 –1918 Murder of the Archduke of Austro-Hungarian Empire Called the tunnel war First with no special uniforms for each country The French and Belgians wore bright colors at the beginning Belgium claimed neutrality, but Germany attacked Spanish flu spread throughout the world killing millions—3 times more than the war Chemical warfare-mustard gas, chlorine gas masks Allies—France, Russia, England, USA, Italy…

America entered late Central—Germany, Austria-Hungary, the Ottoman Empire U-boats First aircraft used in war First tanks—secret project—believed building a water tank Victory to The Allies except Russia, because they surrendered earlier The Great War because they thought there would never be a war bigger and worse than World War I.

Benny Shtutman Age 9

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One Frosty, Wint’r Morning’ (in 1627) Me walk’d through the woods one frosty, wint’r morning’. The leaves crunch’d with mine ev’ry stepeth and the creek tinkl’d o’re the pebbles.

Me looked around me at the nature, ye peace and quiet only to discover something long lost: contentment.

“Why cannot thou be thankful with what ye has?” Me question’d me mind.

But me mind answer’d only “Because there is never enough.”

“Why” me ask’d, “is there never enough?”

But nay response came.

Me thought and found’th the answer. “Me thinks it’s because thou is greedy!

Ye has no shame when ye ask’d for more! Thou is never happy when thou hath a shillin’, ye wanteth two. And when thou hath two, ye wanteth three. But when thou hath none, ye thinketh of how lucky thou was with one.” Me mind was mad!

“Has thou nay pride? Ye talketh of shame, but where is thou’s when ye persecutes thou self and fellow neighbors with angry words?” me mind saideth.

“Aye, me hath pride, but me will admiteth to mine weaknesses and me will tryeth to correcteth! Greediness is one of mine weaknesses and me will correcteth!” me said proudly.

“How will thou doeth that? Nay, ye will not succeed!” me mind saideth haughtily.

Thoughtfully me said “Me will give more and help thou neighbor and if a poor stable knave asketh me for me last blanket on a harsh, blizzardin’ night, me will giveth to him.”

Me mind scream’d angrily and all at once me felt dizzy. Then stillness. Me need’d nay explanation: me evil side had part’d. Thou seeth in every man, woman and child there is a good side and a bad side.

Some people floweth towards the good side and others floweth toward the bad.

But many such as me hast equivalent sides, neither is greater than the other.

For those people, decisions art hard. They know not which road to take nor where to go.

They liveth life by chance, never knowin’ where thou stops and where thou goes.

Thou inner disputes causes thee to be weak, which leads to thou’s destruction.

On that frosty wint’r morning,’ me foundeth me true self.

Ana Grace Ducra Age 11

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Life Does it take real courage to take a risk?

Does it take real courage to go the distance?

Do you have to put up a front to be accepted?

How many words does it take to feel neglected?

Is everyone who they seem?

At the end of the day are you really a team?

Does everyone in the world struggle and fight?

Does everyone in the world have a hard time sleeping at night?

How many chances does a person need?

Are we more gullible than the eyes can see?

In every soul there’s a meaning, whether it’s good or bad—is it worth seeing?

Are we all hiding behind formality?

Is every step you take more and more challenging?

But when we close our eyes and dream,

we become more than just misunderstood human beings.

Otiana Thompson Age 14

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Beauty from Destruction / Jerryana Williams, Age 15

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A Refreshed Way To Be Wake up, get ready, work. Repeat.

Do assignment, eat, sleep. Repeat.

Insanity is the illusion people fall for as a way of living.

It is always receiving, never giving.

Workaholics who lost sight of a sustained state of mind Are running out of time.

What we once visualized as a light of joy Morphing into life being a puppet toy Simply saying no or denying to be hoodwinked from living is a gift Soon you’ll be able to be so peaceful, everything seems to drift Inhale, exhale. Repeat.

Imagine, chill, live. Repeat.

Although work can bring good things for yourself and a few, It doesn’t make it the right thing to do.

If you concentrate on what is right for you, leaving a state of mind so hollow, the path you seek will be easy to follow.

Yasmin Lee Age 13

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Those Mornings Those mornings when you slip on your fuzzy boots and quietly leave adventure hot on your mind Those mornings as you walk to school you notice those small things around you Those mornings when the dewdrops freeze on the rose blossoms their simple beauty calling out to me Those mornings when your eyelashes stick together from the harsh wind but it feels so good Those mornings when you find that one moment of silence and all of humanity is at rest Those mornings when the cold makes you blow onto your gloved hands to keep them warm and you pull your coat closer Those mornings when the world is in your arms your heart is in your outstretched hands and at your fingertips there are endless possibilities Those mornings are perfect.

Lucia Brown Age 11 Kids in Print 2015 | 23

Magic School Bus / Vance Griswold, Age 9

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Untitled / Jaycelyn Johnson, Age 13

My Greatest Fears of Middle School WOW! Look at all those kids in the hallway! I am a MIDDLE SCHOOLER NOW! However, middle school presents a lot of fears for me! Like failing grades, mean teachers, making new friends, strings class (which is violin), and the school lunch! I am wondering what it will look and taste like! I hope it’s not TOXIC!!

My FIRST GREATEST FEAR of middle school was mean teachers, for example.

I thought the teachers would be mean to me because of the way I learn. I thought that they would call my mom because I got a B or worse on my test. I also thought the teachers were strict. “WELL!” I overcame that FEAR by meeting my teachers.

They’re not mean at all. WHAT A RELIEF!!

My SECOND GREATEST FEAR was strings class and playing my violin because I thought that the music was going to be harder to learn. WELL, WELL! I overcame that fear by my teacher helping me! THAT’S SO AWESOME! My LAST GREATEST FEAR was making new friends and the school lunch. WELL, first of all, I have a lot of new friends, and I am learning a lot of new things! THEN, there is the very most important thing to my stomach! THE SCHOOL LUNCH!! That fear is S-O-O-O gone!

The food is S-O-O-O-O-GOOD!! We have an all you can eat salad bar! My FAVORITE!!

I’m LIKING THIS MIDDLE SCHOOL STUFF!

Z-Andre Day Age 12 Kids in Print 2015 | 25

Final Battle / Brant Miller, Age 10

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Shapes and Lines / Aiden Jackson, Age 6

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Why the Carpenter’s Pencil is Square Once upon a time, there was a carpenter who was a very grouchy, grumpy man. Some ants were living in the carpenter’s house, because it was a tiny, cozy place. The ants grew found of the home, but they grudgingly loathed the carpenter.

One day, the ants were feeling extremely bored and decided they wanted a challenge. They crept up the leg of the table, waiting for the right moment to come. The carpenter was writing vigorously with his pencil. At that, they knew it was not time to strike.

They waited and waited for the right moment. When the carpenter set his pencil down, swift as eagles, the ants scurried out to the pencil and started pushing it off the table. The carpenter, who had poor eyesight, only saw the pencil rolling off the table and not the ants. He quickly put it back into its place. The ants tried and tried, but on the fourteenth try, the carpenter just got up and walked away. The ants let out a cheer, because they thought they had outsmarted the unsavory character. However, the battle was not over.

When the carpenter returned, he placed his newly made pencils on the table. The ants saw that they had lost the battle, because the carpenter had shaved the edges off the pencils to make them square! The ants tried to roll the square pencil off the table and could not. They knew that the clever, old carpenter had beaten them. Therefore, that is why the carpenter’s pencil is square.

Timothy Myers Age 12

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The Valley of the Snow Queen / Adena Weinkle, Age 6

Loose Tooth I have a loose tooth. I can lean it all the way back.

I love my loose tooth. My mom made me a tooth fairy pillow.

I wonder what I will get from the tooth fairy.

THE END

Anna Kelly Age 7 Kids in Print 2015 | 29

A Small Turtle Named Steve Once upon a time there was a small turtle named Steve. He lived on a rock in the pond. One day, Steve left his rock on the pond and decided to go adventuring.

He came to a hole surrounded by traffic safety cones and he wondered “What could possibly be in that hole?”

Little did he know, within that hole there was a rabbit’s house. A little blue rabbit named Joe lived in the hole. Joe loved to paint.

Steve was so curious about the hole that he stuck his head down into the burrow.

Joe heard something above his burrow. He jumped up to check it out and they ended up bumping into each other. Joe and Steve introduced themselves and decided to be friends.

All of a sudden a red bird came flying out of nowhere. It turned out to be one of Joe’s friends Robert (a red bird). Robert told Joe that he needed to come to their clubhouse immediately. So, Joe hopped along and invited Steve to join them.

They all walked to the clubhouse. Once they got there, Joe saw the problem.

The tree (that was their clubhouse) was falling apart (because of termites), which was very terrible because Joe and Robert loved their clubhouse. Steve knew that the tree was very important to his new friends; so, he thought and thought and thought and came up with the perfect tree that could become their new club house. Before leaving the old club house, they packed up their club stuff and put a fence around the old termite tree (to let other people know it was not safe).

Then, Steve showed them the way to a huge tree that was very beautiful and was in the meadow right next to his pond. Joe and Robert were very happy to see the tree and that it was close to Steve’s pond and rock house. They were so glad that they made Steve the vice president of their club. They had a big celebration in their new club house and invited many friends. Everyone cheered, “YAY, Steve!”

And they lived happily ever after, until the next adventure.

Alexandriana Williams Age 8

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Bearly Visible / Michaela Lanier, Age 10

Pabolette the Panda / Chloe Morgan, Age 11 Kids in Print 2015 | 31

Sharks Sharks can have different colors. The Great White Shark has white at the bottom of his belly. Hammerhead sharks are just like a hammer.

Sharks are 50 feet and weigh a hundred pounds. Tiger sharks look like a tiger.

Sharknado is not really real. Sharks eat little fish. They’re big as a bus.

Sharks 2‌Coming Soon

Damien Ward Age 6

Monkeys Most monkeys are brown. Monkeys are my favorite animal. Monkeys are related to many things like: Chimpanzees, Gorillas, Orangutans, and even humans!

Monkeys are related to us because they do some things like us. Did you know monkeys get twigs and stick them into holes in logs to get food out?

Will Phelps Age 6

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Fred and Samson A Simile Poem

A tongue like sandpaper, Claws as sharp as razor blades, Eyes like glowing glass in the night, He sneaks, sleeps, and leaps on the counter, Cat.

A tongue as slimy as a snail, Teeth as big as a crocodile’s, Shedding fur makes the couch as white as snow, He drools, he runs, he barks, he sheds, Dog.

Theodore Alexander Walton Age 12

The Dog and the Cat / Anna Lee Smith, Age 10 Kids in Print 2015 | 33

Dragon Rock / Sadee Broughton, Age 8

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Beach Girl Her sea eyes Capturing Her sunshine hair Waving Her sandy skin Glowing Her Standing there

Olivia Bokesch Age 11

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Happiness Rain falls today.

I was anticipating bright sun but really, it was raining.

If everyone was as happy as they let on, our world would be rainbows.

If everyone was as happy as they felt, our world would be rain.

Light, heavy, heavier our rain falls.

If I had a nickel for every time a person said, “I’m fine” and wasn’t, I’d be rich.

But no one experiences that much happiness.

Kaylee Chen Age 9

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Family As a grandchild, you must be an actor At first, exchange chubby cheeks for chocolate cookies When you grow, so do the deceptions Where you hide your favorites among feuds Your laughter must drown out the shouting Your love outlast the bitterness I am the eldest. I am excellent.

As the eldest, I know the ropes A mute doll as my grandparents fling knives across the kitchen table Sip wine with my aunt, whispering fermented family grapes Sour grapes, to tell the truth Please ignore a cousin’s recent absence Play dumb and young while grandma poisons my mom I learn the ropes by study alone.

As their descendants, we band together A secret society of little fiends We learn to fling our own pebbles We chuckle, a litany of slanderous names Drunk Grandpa Jake, Jealous Aunt Amy Dolls turning delinquent I repeat history.

It isn’t our fault.

We only imitate the love we’ve seen.

Julia Miller Age 17

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Light Guiding the way through a cedarwood forest A warm fire on a cold night A ray melting a lake Contained in a lamp like a wild tiger

The sun that leaves every night And returns every morning

Ava Jackson Age 9

SHOFAR SHOFAR Shofar, shofar, high and loud.

Shofar, shofar, a beautiful sound.

We blow it on Rosh Hashanah morning.

It awakens our hearts as we hear its warning.

Elliot Scher Age 10

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light warrior defending from the dark sneaking over the horizon with bright golden swords burning and slashing with light sending the dark to its grave

Emerson VanDenBerg Age 10

Excalibur / Andrea Robichaud, Age 15

Kids in Print 2015 | 39

Ink All day long I write and write.

You would never see such a sight.

All around me ideas fly the products of the reaches of one’s mind.

I pass from hand to hand, writing all the while.

Eloquent script may paint a place I’ll never be, or answer questions never asked.

My ink tells all in time, but I fade and fade taking secrets to my grave.

Meighan Parsh Age 15

Online The mother greeted her son as he walked downstairs.

“Be careful what you share online,” she reminded. “One of my friends just realized that huge corporations knew everything about her. It’s scary, isn’t it?”

The teenage boy nodded. He mentally sifted through all the data he put online about himself. His location going into ride-sharing apps. Preferences in browsing history. Interests on social media. Money in virtual vaults. All the same for his friends.

He could get himself to the mall, meet up with friends, easily find their favorite items, and conveniently pay by bumping a phone against a terminal.

He turned back to his mother, who was still waiting for his response. He turned his mind back to the days when he would pester his parents for a ride to the mall, only to walk up and down the aisles alone, searching for something decently priced that he liked. He thought about the norms his parents grew up in, now obsolete.

“Yeah, it must be scary,” he answered.

Eric Chen Age 14

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Pamela / Victoria Jackman, Age 15

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Windswept / Aria Schottelkotte, Age 12

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Hope in the Silence I sit—in silence. I forgot how beautiful the world is. This is the only place I can come without anyone knowing, well except one of my sisters, but she won’t tell.

As I sit I take in my surroundings. Pollution is all everyone expects to see. It’s what the government announces on the news. But as I sit, I still see the beautiful world God created: trees struggle to grow, blue skies peek over the smoke, grass pulls through the surface of the ground striving for life. I am on my roof waiting until 5:00 pm when it gets too dark to see your own hand. Yes, it is winter, but the darkness is a shadow of grief. I escape here every day just for a glimpse, so I can hold on to reality. I come through a small hole in the attic, the only hole left after we had to board up the house, to ward off the disease.

The disease grew rampant in October of 2014. They started by calling it Ebola; now we just call it our reality. They say the end of the world is no longer inevitable, but that life as we once knew it is over. It is now December 22nd of 2015. Only a year since its start, and I barely remember my life before, with friends, school, sports, life in general. It is my birthday, but I didn’t remind anyone. We heat our ‘astronaut food,’ and that is the extent of our meals. We are issued 60 meals apiece, a month, which is only 2 meals a day. So no celebration of my birthday is all that is going to happen.

I feel death. Everyone in my family dealt with it at one point or another, and we almost lost one of my sisters. Somehow we were all in the 1 percentile who have survived. We are each allowed contact with one person. My best friend has the disease now. I know of many people who have died. Fear is no longer the word I would use; dread is now the emotion I feel. Dread of what life will become, dread of what life already is, and dread of being released from our home and seeing only death. Not unlike a massacre. They tell us that Africa barely even exists any longer.

As I sit on the roof, I ponder life and death. Which would be better at this point?

Daily I write in this diary, and daily I feel hope leave. I am reminded of Pandora’s Box: all the pain possible has attacked the world as we know it, but hope is striving to get out. Hope burns through the silence.

Anna-Bradley Bird Age 14

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Eraser The errors I see all around me…

I will make them disappear.

Every flaw and mistake that someone dare make will be obliterated.

The evil I’ve found; the darkness around will be purged in time.

I take the errors I see in my sight, going up and down, left and right, in the futile attempt to make them void.

Their shadows stain my soul.

I’ll never reach my goal in this world of imperfection.

With every swish of destruction, a removal of obstruction.

I lose a bit of myself each time.

Now I am dead.

My heart is not red, but black like the evil I’ve absorbed.

My heart’s scattered ashes are spread out in batches, and still, nothing is perfect.

For all my pride and ambition, my suicide mission has become a failure itself.

Clover Robichaud Age 15

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Trapped / Walt Cook, Age 15

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King of the Rats / Nathan Johnson, Age 14

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The Outcast Speech In the blend of the chaotic trials of life, I fade into the background, moving about unnoticed.

I differ from the average man. Am I still human?

I am cast aside from everyone else. I’m not like others.

Emotions can overwhelm me and cloud my judgment.

I laugh to myself about jokes within my head, everyone stares with curiosity and judgment.

I don’t look like everyone else, how everyone wants me to look.

Am I still me?

Wars rage within my head of what I should and should not do.

I am weak. Yet, I am also strong.

I have always been human. I’m just unique.

McKayla Moran Age 14

Playtime / Mary Kathryn Davidson, Age 14

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Tree of Life / Jesse Morgan, Age 13

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Owl / Blythe Harris, Age 9

Personification Personification is giving a nonhuman human characteristics, be it an animal, object, or even an idea. Are we beings that can’t live without stamping our likeness onto anything in existence, even the intangible?

Are we truly that arrogant? Or could it possibly be the other way around?

Do we derive our characteristics from the world around us, becoming sponges, one of the simplest creatures in existence, that soak up the essence of the universe, all of us insignificant nothings without an everything to turn us into something? Is it our reality itself that models us into the complex beings we’d like to believe ourselves to be?

Clover Robichaud Age 15

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Yougio Zexal / Joseph Gilmore, Age 10

Self Portrait / Diego Thrasher, Age 8

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Ice Cream Nightmare / Shimshon Yisrael, Age 12

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Thanksgiving Meal Cranberries, turkey and pie, oh my the smell of the turkey hot in the oven, mashed potatoes mush in your mouth just think…mmmm the crisp of the turkey skin the ooze of cranberry sauce…smack best of all—the pie Apple and Pumpkin! Oh my!

Kerry Reddy Age 9

To My Beloved Fried Chicken To my beloved fried chicken I love you more than any other food Your crunchy and flaky skin Your white, tender and juicy meat You are most enjoyable with sides The sides are like your beloved cousins that you go nowhere without And the steam that rises up from your meat like you are steaming with anger Makes my mouth water with delight I love the way that you can be served in many different ways Like nuggets, legs, and thighs I love you so much and no food compares To the way I feel about you

Sydney Moody Age 13

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Heaven / Kai Williams, Age 11

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Wings of Light

Poetic Patterns / Da’Quashia Salaam, Age 7

Light emerges from the sky.

Its wings inflamed, Circling around us, Watching and waiting, Moving through the earth, Departing into the black sky.

Mika’el Jeffcoat Age 10

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My Lady Doth Shine My Lady doth shine like saffron rays of sun.

Her teeth glow like pearls on a Somerset beach.

My Lady, Summer, she doth frisk and play in fun.

Forsooth she changes for Autumn’s mantle the peach, And takes upon her cheeks Fall’s rosy luster.

She blossoms and blooms, her beauty in season is ripe.

Fingers white as Winter, her beauty she musters.

I fancy her fresh and fragile as Spring.

Her pale smooth neck rises up as a stipe.

Her voice is a nightingale, her words doth sing, And her beauty of seasons coolth o’heat e’ry type.

Forsooth I cannot find adequate any rhyme, To describe my Love, eternal for all of time.

Elizabeth Myers Age 15

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Library Elf / Alia Kemp Davis, Age 10

The Dragon / Zach Siwicki, Age 9

A Very Special Thank You...

Many people made this edition of Kids in Print possible and we each worked hard to make this publication the best yet.

PrintSouth Printing / The families, teachers and school staff Darion McCloud / Vicky Saye Henderson / Kathryn DuRant Johnson Programs and Partnerships / Virtual Services Marketing and Communications Kids In Print Selection Committee Heather McCue / Jennifer Naimzadeh / Sherry Williams Emily Johansson / The Children’s Room / Teen Center

Wolf Song / Andrea Robichaud, Age 13