edda 2014

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The Edda 2014

First Presbyterian Day School

Editorial Staff

Co-editors Paul Young Katie O’QuinnStaff Caitlin Odum William Roddenberry McKenzie Peterson Megan Huggins Samantha Bellomo-Skvasik Meghan ChamleeArt Editors Sara Walsh Lizzie LisenbyFactulty Advisors Andrew Katzer Elizabeth Young Nancy Butler Stephanie GarrisonCover Art Tia Ouyang

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Farewell, Farewell Eukaryotic Cell by Katey Griggs, 12th gradeMitosis, reproduction’s proud trend,

Is only the beginning of the end.His insides squirm, wiggle, and fight,Until in the middle they sit just right.

Poor, poor eukaryotic cell

The fingers come and take their grip,Knowing later for him only to RIP.Inside his magnets begin to roar,Tugging and pulling at his core.

Poor, poor eukaryotic cell

Away, away, they separate,Then finally revealed is his fate.Now in the shape of a peanut,

Cytokinesis does the deathly cut.Farewell, Farewell our eukaryotic cell!

Hannah Colquitt, 11th grade

On Nature and Its Beauty...

5Sara Parker Ware, 8th grade

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Harsh Winter by Kyle Bradley, 9th Grade

All has turned to IceInside the cold black darkness

The loud howling winds

Coal Mine by Kyle Bradley, 9th grade

The cold dark black deathYour life is nothing but coal

Withering away

Wimberly Thigpen, 8th grade

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Seasons by Austin Emener, 7th grade

FallI see the leaves falling and blowing in the wind. I hear owls hoot-

ing in the night.I taste the sweet pumpkin pie in my mouth.

I touch the dying leaves in my hands.I smell the sweet smell of turkey, ham and corn.

WinterI see the snowman I built in the backyard.

I hear my sister talking to Santa Claus about what she wants for Christmas.

I taste the warm hot chocolate in my mouth on a cold morning.I feel the freezing cold snowballs hit my face.

I smell the warm chili that we are having for dinner.

SpringI see the trees starting to come back to life on a warm day.

I hear the yelling of people in the streets of the Cherry blossom festival.

I taste the ham from the feast my family has every spring.I touch the pencil that I’m using for my final exams.

I smell the chocolate for the homemade cookies that my mom makes.

SummerI see the excited kids sprinting to the beach.

I hear the waves roaring and crashing into the beaches.I taste the cold Coke in my mouth.

I touch the shovels to make the sand castle for my younger sister.I smell the red steak over medium.

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Trees Beauty by Ethan Scott, 9th grade

The leaves on the treesGlistening in the sun

Shine a shade of greenAs they slightly spun

Sky becomes darkHere comes the rain

Wetting the trees barkStorm begins to fade

Everything is wet Out comes the sun

The trees now shine you betThis beauty will amaze

McKenzie Bakkar, 11th grade

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Driving through Winter by Jonathon Canipe, 9th grade

Passing through the hillsRolling down the mountains

Driving around finding my wayCrisp frozen lakes on the side

Crunchy snow settled on the treesCars and trucks lightly powdered

Children with red cheeks and snowballsFamily`s bundling by a fire

It was finally Christmas timeAnd I was finally home.

Cherry Wang, 10th grade

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The Walk by Mary Persons, 9th grade

I awoke at the stroke of dawn.The sun not yet glowing, but it will soon arise and make me shine.Animals in the shadows, awaiting for light.Out in a field I go, as the sun is coming over the horizonThe Sky full of color as I walk along the grassy roadBirds’ chirps I hear in the cold winter wind.As I walk without a sound to the edge of the cold dark forest,Looking back to see a flock of geese high in the sky.The fall crisp leaves under my feet awoke the pack forms their long night’s hunt.Their howls sending shivers down my spine.I hear their footsteps getting closer and closerRushing out from the brush they came a-flyingStopped dead in my tracks, them the same I could hear their hard breathing rushing from their mouths.Their eyes are like death, looking through my soulAfraid and scared I was not knowing what to doThey took a step towards me and off they went.As my walk comes to an end I thank God that I’m alive.

Lizzie Lisenby, 12th grade

11Luke Thomas, 11th grade

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Earth Day by Daniel Cardis, 6th grade

God is so greatHe gave us this earth.So let’s take a moment

And see what it’s worth.The roses are blooming

The violets are, too.God made these things

For me and for you.God is so great

He’ll show us the way.So enjoy this creation,

And have fun on Earth Day!

Easter by Riley Davis, 6th

Chicks, carrots, eggs everywhereSweet little bunnies with very soft hair.

Easter egg hunts with your cousinsPicking them up by the dozens.

Yes, it is fun, but that’s not what Easter’s forIf you look you will find so much more.

Easter is a special dayNot for play, but all for pray.

God gave his one and only SonFor all of us, and that’s a ton.

Jesus went through so much painSo that we wouldn’t live in vain.

He came back to life in three daysThat is why to God we praise.

We looked a little harder don’t you see,Jesus died for you and me.

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Springtime by Andrew Cohen, 6th Grade

Spring is finally here.This is my favorite time of the year.

I’m going to St. Simons with my fishing gear.I’ll meet you all at the pier.

The rest of the seasonI’ll be playing ball.

If you need a playerJust give me a call.

The pollen is my enemyBecause it causes me to sneeze.

But I am really tornBecause I love the cool breeze.

As the end of school draws nearI have realized it really has been

A great year.

Fern and a Vine by Skow, 12th grade

It is on beat Walk up to a fern and a vine

Look at it closelyHow can you leer in my eye

And tell me that those-thingsWeren’t designed?

It takes a levelOf rebellion

To look at the world and deny.If you’re yearning to find

Like most peopleYou could look at the world and decide.

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Caroline Stroud, 12th grade

Dream Hunt By Hunter Boyle, Grade 9

As the sun came down,I was ready to pack my bags, and go back to town

When all of a sudden I heard a rustleAnd out shot a deer, in a frantic hustle

I picked up my gun, and aimed down fieldThen the deer came to final yield

I took one shotThen put down the gun, barrel still hot

I walked down the roadPassing frogs and toads

Then I got him, and threw him on the bedHe had nine points on top of the head

On Leisure and Enjoyment...

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Turkey Hunting by Anonymous

Thunder sounds in the ridge topTurkey gobblin’ in the tree tops

Gotta ease up the hill and sit real stillNothing else can give me this thrill

Wings flappin in the bottomAt least that’s where I though I saw em

Now he’s 75 yards awayThat’s where he was when he flew away……

I cut and purr with my mouth call And he finally saw

My hen decoy in the pine strawHe saw that hen and flew right inRight in front of my loaded gun

He was walkin up tallWith his feathers out flaw

A couple more seconds till he would fallI’m a turkey hunter from the break of the sun

Gotta call em in and get in frontSometimes I wonder

About my never ending hungerFor turkey hunting

Rett Elliot, 8th grade

16 Hannah Shuman, 9th grade

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Poem by Jansen Oliver grade 9

It was on a day like today It was sunny with a little bit of a chillWhen I first conquered a giant hill

And climbed it. This giant hill was located at the old place I used to live

I used to start to climb Instead of wasting anymore time

The first rock I climbed Was bigger than the last one but twice the size.

I got to my second rock and to my surprise I fell but I was fine

The second time I tried I got to the fourth section, almost to the top

But once again I tumbled down the hill and landed on my side The last time I tried I made it to the top

And screamed out yes! For I had done it!

Partido by anonymous, 9th grade

Stitched and sewn with thickened string, Our souls are tightly knit.

With grass aflow in fallen wind, As one we all unite.

We knit ourselves in cases Ourselves with instinct’s massive drive.

A yellow daub lay in blue skies Combining with darkened weather.

A throw away with an out We all will probably shout,

So when you see it's not me, You'll see us as a team.

We will spur on and carry on In the partido all day long.

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Tennis by Juliana Hawkinson, 9th grade

The ball shoots across the courtAs our bodies sway in motionWhen people hear the scores,

They wonder what is all the commotionRunning back and forth, staying in the lines

Everything that we were thinking ofIs pushed out of minds

We focus on the score, whether two to one or one to twoOur forehand, backhand, is all we were trained to do

The volleys, serves, and overheads, are also accounted for

Copeland Ammann, 8th grade

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Gracie Jean Joiner, 6th grade

March, the start of springLight pink blooms and the sun shines

Cherry blossom day.

Emily Cox, 6th grade

The rain falling downThunder roaring in the sky

Lightning strikes again.

Bryce Woods, 6th grade

Water at the beachPlaying football in the sand

Picking up seashells.

Wyatt Wilson, 6th grade

The leaves are fallingThey float in vibrant colors

I love fall time.

Brooks Roper, 6th grade

Cherry blossoms bloomWhile buzzing bees flying around

It is finally spring

Noah Takac, 8th grade

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My Puppy by Alan Carlton, 9th grade

My puppy is as sweet as a cupcakeA cupcake that barks

My puppy is the Obama of our houseShe is the boss of us all

She licks my face a bunchShe isn’t too fond of my brother

He is mean to her so she is mean backSome people believe dogs don’t have feelings

I believe mine does thoughMy puppy loves me and I love my puppy

Gabriella Lindau, 8th grade

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Music by Samantha Bellomo, 9th grade

When all words seem to fail,Music’s something that’s always there

Near or even far away,Music is there anyway.

Smooth jazz is another classic,But no matter what kind it’s just fantastic.

Notes that sounds just too sweet,Especially when it is on beat.

Music gives us another reason,To gather and celebrate every season.

Even if it’s just once a year,Music makes us want to cheer!!

Sara Walsh, 12th grade

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SWEET TEA acrostic by Paul Jerles, 9th grade

Sweet ham! Oh sweet ham!Why must you Entice me? Everything I do reminds me of you!Though I refrain for dessertThe hand I possess betrays me!Excluded from the tableAll the ham now in my arms. NO REGRETS!

Elbert the Bunny, by Caitlin Odum, 12th grade

Once upon a time there was this bunny and his name was Elbert. Now Elbert was a very strange bunny. He kept to himself mostly, but the strangeness shown through whenever he climbed trees. Something about being so high and afraid made Elbert go a bit psycho. One day Elbert was climbing the largest male ginkgo tree in the forest, and for a small woodland creature that isn't supposed to climb trees, he climbed extravagantly fast. When he reached the very tippiest top, he crouched down as far as he could and sprang into the air. You see... Elbert had no friends, no commitments, no family, no beliefs; all he had was the intoxication he got from climbing trees, but he had climbed all the trees in the forest and no longer found satisfaction from climbing even the tallest tree. So he sprang into the air, with all his might, in order to receive that last moment of electrical happiness before he plunged to his death. The end.

23Caroline Stroud, 12th grade

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Chocolate Delight by Kyle Bradley, 9th grade

Chocolate so warmThe rich taste is a delight

It’s as fine as wine.

Megan Sparks, 12th grade

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Bubbles by Kyle Bradley 9th grade

It’s so colorfulWith shapes of varietyThey soar like balloons

Rachel Buckland, 10th grade

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The Teenage Dilemma, Anonymous, 9th grade

My alarm sings the song of its peopleI thank it with a grateful whacking

Two slices of ham will be ampleWhen of Chic-fil-a, my house is lacking

I grip the responsibility of drivingBut shortly I’ll ask to use the head

The teenage dilemma forces you into maturing, While laying you down in a sports car bed

Adults have forgotten the struggle And children are in serious denial

Most teenagers don’t realize what “it” is“It” is the teenage dilemma


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Stress by Caitlin Odom, 12th grade

My life is full of so much stressAnd countless things I forgot

I’m lost in a hazy mess

I always come up with lessOh the plans that I have soughtMy life is full of so much stress

I thought to visit your addressBut against that my heart fought

I’m lost in a hazy mess

I tried to come but with little successMy brain took no time to become distraught

My life is full of so much stress

My apologies I do expressI never wanted to not

But I’m just so lost in this mess

I’m sorry! I love you! I do confess.But honestly I ought to naughtMy life is full of so much stress

I’m so lost in this hazy mess

On Our Fears and Courage...

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Sydney Bradley, 11th grade

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Bullying by Torree Theodore, 6th grade

Agonizing pain burning inside of me.I try my best to hold it in.

Nowhere to run.Nowhere to hide.

I must keep a close eye before the attack.Heart beating fast, wrenching in fear

As I see him turn the corner.I try to run

But there is nowhere to go.A bead of sweat dropping down my cheek.

He sees me with his eyes full of hatred.He comes running toward me.

I’m backed up into a corner.His dark shadow hovers over me.

Terror fills my eyes.I can’t take it anymore!

He has gone way too far.As he is about to throw a punch of pain

He stops-Feeling the hand of a caring teacher

Rest upon his shoulder.

Show Me Why by Sam Anderskow, 12th grade

Show me whyThe only time

I’ve ever been a lonely guyIs when I ask and then they don’t reply

Show me why

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Scared of the Jungle By Torrian Bradley-McSwain, 9th grade

In the jungle,Don’t walk alone,

Lions, tigers, and bears,They might get you if you are frightened,

Don’t act scared,Roar like a lion,

In his jungle,Run like a tiger,

On his turf, Walk like a bear, In his territory,

Act strong,So they act weak,Don’t act weak,

Or they’ll be strong.

Megan Ingram, 11th grade

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Labels by Anonymous, 9th grade

Our whole lives we are labeled, we are just stories to be toldDefined by actions, characterized and controlled.

Remembered for our failures, our past, our pain, and mistakes.Surrounded by our opponents waiting for us to break.

Described by the bad, occasionally the good.Dreaming one of these days you’ll be understood.

It’s the definitions that lead man to stressAnd what hinders one from success.

A definition excludes the possibility for changeAnd staying the same forever is nothing short of strange.

So be indefinite, vague, and unclearIn hopes you can evolve and not live your life--

Labeled by your fears.

Mackenzie Kortrey, 11th grade

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Discomfort Acrostic, by Bowen Powers, 9th grade

Forced to be with strangersAunts and UnclesMom and DadInjured with hugsLoved by allYourself surrounded with humans

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Found Poem by Taylor Burns, 12th grade

Name had never once been sounded, theQuick, smitten glareSmash of a pane of glass. The imposing cry,Uttered over my violence—the shriek of a creature scared“She’s there, she’s there!”

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Found Poem by Daniel Nelsen, 12th grade

Are you mad?Madness were easy to

Bear compared with truth like thisI hate youI wanted

DeathI expect you

ToHarm

That childI felt

Nothing

Sam Bass, 8th grade

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For There was a Day by Dane Wiggins, 9th grade

For there was a dayWhen Stephen took a picture

Happy as can be

For there was a dayWhere there was blissThe world was calm

For there was a dayWhen Stephen’s smile would fade

When the world would turnAnd he would change

For there was a day When Stephen would run

And never look backWhere he would be free

And the pain would be gone

I’m a Gun by Paul Jerles, 9th grade

I’m a gunWhy am I what I am?

I cannot speak for myselfNor can I move

Who am I? A gunI don’t like my purposeSome think I’m good

Most don’t careWho am I? A gun

I don’t like to shoot All I cause is pain and sadness

What am I? Just a gun

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Stephen’s Escape by Wade Snow, 9th grade

Smile Young Jewish boy,You need not fear.

Your bags are packedYou shall escape from hereWith your dapper little suit,And your curled little hair,

You have no reason to frownFor you are almost there.

To Britain’s sweet soil,Where you will be safe,

Nothing could possibly spoil,The shining smile upon your face.

So toot your screeching horn,It’s time to celebrate!

For all your friends are here,The times will be great.

Grace Ford, 12th grade

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The Smiling Boy by Adam Young, 9th Grade

Fear not my son,Freedom has come.

Your smile has rarely been used, and has waited long,It is as beautiful as a melodious song.

The time to say good-byes and pack your bags is near, There is new life ahead of you, one without fear.

The din of war will soon be far behind,This will be a remembrance of life past, and may ease your mind.

You wear your best tweed coat, and carry the cone of hope.You wear a brilliant smile, one that people see for a mile.

Though you may be frightened for a while,There is a better life ahead;

One where that smile will oft be used.If you ever feel scared and alone

Just look at this picture, and know that you are loved And have a home.

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Dylan Lister, 12th grade

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The Story of Gina’s Survival by Cassidy Pearson, 9th grade

Everywhere I look, there are soldiersHere to save us from this disaster that has hit us today

Every minute I hear troops walking by,As their boots scrape through the rough, dusty dirt.

I heard a loud scream as a gun went off nearby,As if a child encountered an army of men with weapons.

I walked toward the sound, while I heard gun shots blasting from all directions,

Only to find out that someone has been shot and killed.Seeing the dead body and blood on the ground,And smelling the awful smell of the gun smoke

Only makes me worry about what is yet to comeAnd if my husband, my friends, and I will survive through this

tough time.Every day when I go home, eat dinner, and lay in my bed,

I fear I’ll be trapped again,Which brings as much terror into my mind as anything could or

ever will.

Hope by Hanny Marone, 9th grade

The urge to escapeAs I sit down

An American flagA click and a flash

The smell of ink fills my noseAnd the feel of rough paper

I look at dark grey, brown, and blackThis piece of paper

Is my hope

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You Are Brave by Hannah Shuman, 9th Grade

Small and excited to leave,Feeling joyous and happily free,

You are brave, Stephen Adler.

Jumping like a Jack rabbit,Eager to leave your past behind,


A smooth white wall behind you,The smell of the airport engulfs you.

You’re next in line to have your photo snapped,You are brave, Stephen Adler.

Smile for a stranger,Look into the camera flash and see your bright future,


Afraid of losing of your family,And not hearing stories every night in bed.

Your world is changing,You are brave, Stephen Adler.


Unapproachable, a rap by Charlie Zero, 12th grade

I can understand why they avoid me. I’m the dopest rapper and it can be intimidating. Dragons hate me. I speak fire that brings forth envy from the entire reptilian race. Warriors wish that they could wield with their fists the potency with which I speak. And I’m just like... Nah. Never. And I don’t move mountains. No way. Mountain step aside and beg me to have a nice day. And I’m just like. Don’t tell me what to do mountain, don’t make me come up there. I’m the very best. Period. I’m the absolute greatest. Exclamation point. One could make the argument that I am rap itself. Of course I’d chuckle and be like... Nah. I’m absolute music. A masterpiece for your ears and a perfect melody to your eye. Do I overuse the word I? Does Luke walk the sky? I don’t know. But I do, whenever the weather is nice and they tell me I should be more down to earth. But whatever. I shake stages till I’m the only conscious soul in the building and plan to do it till the room capacity reaches zero. They try to tell me I am sick but mid sentence gag on their own vomit and spit to which I reply ya better swallow it, don’t you dare chuck it up, in fact you should buckle up, shut your trap and equip your listening cap when I’m fixing to rap. I can have you clappin’ and prove I’m a better rapper than your favorite rapper without even havin’ to rap as it happens. I could do it without speaking but I’m cocky. I’m Tyler’s creation. I’m Florence’s machine. Your favorite artist is going to hate me. I’m any secret that Victoria’s been keeping. I’m the future. The leader of the revolution. A conspicuous implication. A silent exclamation. I’m the sound of one hand clapping. The same sound found in the forest after the crashing of a tree to the ground when nobody’s around, I’m the reason for it too. I’m every boyfriend’s girlfriend’s crush. If this were a job interview I would have hired myself for walking into the building I’m the boss. And then they say I’m childish… Are you kidding me? You don’t get it I’m imaginations Padawan. A Jedi of words plotting a machination of awesome collaboration. The epitome of literacy, the captain of connotation, the dictator of diction. Master of contemplation. The semantic samurai and a pro with the prose. Sinister with the synonyms although, not that good at adjectives. Super Duper cillious, seriously stupid. The greatest of all time hopefully I have proved it. My swag is unapproachable. That’s what it is. I’m unapproachable.

43Kelly Shimp, 11th grade

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Why do we ever persevere? Katey Griggs, 12th grade

Why ever do we persevere?While falling apart, still we try.All for a hidden purpose none can hear.

To easy living, we strive to steer Though every limb be bound by tie. Why ever do we persevere?

Immense control to hold the tear. Given no time, no place fit to cry.All for a hidden purpose none can hear.

Expected to carry on by those who are dear. We find a spark to push us by. Why ever do we persevere?

The reward and peace is very near,And that last, we delight in a sigh. All for a hidden purpose none can hear.

The beautiful meaning does finally appear As we proclaim “Stronger am I!”Why ever did we persevere?

All for a hidden purpose none could hear.

On Love, and Perseverance...

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The Eye by Savannah Phillips, 12th grade

The weathered eye aged and oldHas seen the facets of lifeFor one only sees what seems to LIVE

She has seen her newborn baby boy cryHer baby girl skin her knee, have her heart broken, make mistakes, Fall in love, become a wifeThe weathered eye aged and old

To be taught is to teach, she knows this full well, As systematic education liesTo grow a garden, burn casseroles, spoil her grandchildren. Mcflurries, Sprinkles, Playgrounds! Rife with contentment and lazy days in the pear tree; One only sees what seems to LIVE

Milky blue, opaque to clarity. Many years of memories. Decisions. Faded Perspective. The light dies.To let go of her past, and remember future glories. The sting of regret. My Back! That Knife!The weathered eye aged and old

But Summers turned to Autumns, And the new life of Spring grew old and sighedChildren left and flowers died, Only did the music of abundant memory remain. The beautiful fife.Swaying and basking in the sweet nectar of sunshine: One only sees what seems to LIVE.

“Much have I seen, but my wisdom is kicked to the dust,” Whispers the Eye.Don’t discount what I have seen, my beautiful child. You are loved, my baby, my whole life.The weathered eye aged and oldTo the most magnificent of choices, her choice! She only saw what seemed to LIVE.

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Untitled, by Mary Helen Douglas, 12th grade

Blank spaces consume my empty thoughts. Random words in a clutterTrue to oneself writing can be a unique challenge, one that’s often overlookedIt’s true we don’t always know the right words to utter

What are emotions? The art of expression on a page, I feel my heart flutterA good writer once whispered where the secret lies, now I’m hookedBlank spaces consume my empty thoughts. Random words in a clutter

Do I be myself? Do I be someone else? The questions make me shudderI tread my dusty tracks to the library, throw me an old bookIt’s true we don’t always know the right words to utter

I might have found the answer but I can’t seem to stop this stutterThe glass, who might it be? I think it’s time to take a lookBlank spaces consume my empty thoughts. Random words in a clutter

It’s me, it’s really me, I know I’m becoming a nutterI see them all standing there, I don’t know really whose time I’ve tookIt’s true we don’t always know the right words to utter

Ah, Alas, I think I know finally what to sayI’m not sure if it’s time to overtookBlank pages consume my empty thoughtsIt’s true we don’t always know the right words to utter

47Blake Spires, 11th grade

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Love by Katlyn Smaha, 9th grade

Love is there even when you don’t know itIt can change your life in a matter of seconds

It will sneak up on you when you least expect it

Love is like a blanket that keeps you warm at nightIt comforts you when you need it most

And in the middle of darknessIt is your bright and shining light

Love is like a roller coaster that throws you aroundIt means facing your biggest fears

But once you get on, you can enjoy the ride

Love isn’t always a fairytaleLike Cinderella and Prince Charming

It’s real and it’s patientIt may cause heartbreak

But in the end, love is worth fighting for

Catherine Smith, 8th grade

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Freedom by Ruth Samuel, 9th grade

Freedom. Something others would die for And something most of us take for granted. Most of the time we forget how Incredibly blessed we are to Live in the land of the free and the home of the brave. Your freedom is precious and never forget to thank God, Who loves you best.


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Destiny’s Door by Rebecca Leigh, 9th grade

Anticipation to get thereWe’ve come a long way just to be here

Expectations and dreams Become two crossed pathsThe forked road to surpass

So let’s ink our hearts with courageImprint W I N in our brains

White out the set backs And straighten our backs up

Fight to finish the race they drew for us“No you can’t” doesn’t exist anymore

One two three fourDon’t slam Destiny’s door

Grace Ford, 12th grade

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What is “It”? by Anna Claire Stietenroth, 9th grade

It conquers all and is said to be kind.It is a many splendid thing and is often hard to find.

Only fools fall into it according to song,But most who’ve experienced it would say this is wrong.

The feeling it gives one is hard to explain.The warmth it brings one is a mysterious thing.

It can be taken for granted until it dies,So to appreciate it would certainly be wise.It can break one’s heart, or bring great joy.

It can fulfill one’s life, or even destroy.To some it’s a mystery, and to some it’s a quest,But for all a journey that brings out our best.

Like Bonnie and Clyde, the “It” is tough, but look around, There is never enough.

I’m sure you’ve figured it out by now, the “It” is love, That of which God has given from above!

Lizzie Lisenby, 12th grade

52

Prom, a rap by “Charlie Zero,” 12th grade

I like my hair long. Like way out there. My bed head looks awe-some.I feel like Mufasa. I like sneakers and songs you gotta dance to at maximum volume. I hate buttons and bow ties and your friends with their gossip. I hate empty conversation with your parents about my plans for the future. I hate all the questions you get, and the stares I get. I hate the fake smiles for the selfie for your Instagram posts. I hate the double dates and the competition of Valentine’s Day. And I really really hate the empty conversations with your parents about the future. I don’t know where I’m going or what I’m doing or what they want me to say about where I’m going or doing. And I hate that. But I like you.

Bentlie Grice, 12th grade

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Replay, a rap by “Charlie Zero,” 12th grade

…She got me on replay3 days later got me on a heat wave4 locos lookin’ for a high 5Eyes closed while I’m lookin’ for the bright side6 months after everything I triedSoon as I LEFT you decide I was the RIGHT guyAnd you was always boastin’ ‘bout ya manAnd finally ya get it like I told you that you canAbout a year ago and here we go and here we go againI just wanna meet up You got meeting your demandsYou ain’t that fine, if you don’t mind me sayin’ But somethin’ ‘bout that dime got my dumb mind replayin’ likeRewind, please bring it back one timeI’ll be here kickin’ what you call dumb rhymes, soLemme know if you ever feel like usin’ meI’ll be here wishin’ we can get back where we used to be

Untitled by Emily Rutledge , 9th grade

Like Tigger and PoohAre me and youOur friendships as sweetAs a cow’s meatOur love laughs and cries,And seems like it flies,And without one, we aren’t complete

Our friendship is a flower,Growing more each day.It’s the new girl at school,Trying to stay out of everybody’s way.It’s quiet, then loud,When no one`s around,And I wouldn’t want it any other way.

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Main Dish by Anonymous, 9th grade

It’s been 40 days but my eyes are still agazeWhy do I still go and look

And wind up shookWhy was it so short

As if I just didn’t have much torqueWhy did it hurt so bad and make me so sad

It’s like it was a dareBecause I was so scared

But I know what I learned What to say and what to yearnHow to touch and how to holdThat when my wife is in my life

I will most certainly knowShe will flow and definitely glow

She will love like a doveAnd hold me like a glove

Separate from all this blissIs that God will be her main dish

Irish Blessing By Graci Ward, 6th grade

May you have a happy life, May you cherish all of your memories

May you learn from your mistakes And don’t do them again.

May you heal from your injuries. May you pray for your family.

May you go to church and learn more about the Bible.

May you honor your parents, for they do everything for you.

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Katherine Bolles, 12th grade

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The Whisper by Christiny Reeves , 9th grade

It came slowly in the vastness of nightYour words cloaked in darkness

Though your face not seen a voice was heardThe lifting of your tongue

From which came a light never seenYour words are like a drop in the ocean

The love for something so smallWhich brings together the evanescence of the deep, dreary water

You are a soundBut I picture a king, a knight, a love

My heart jumpsThe sound of your r’s as they roll off your tongue

I imagine your smileWit the voice of an angel

This must be what Mary feltIn the presence of Gabriel

The words though I tryStay in

Stuck in my throatI could not bear to disturb the dialect

I take part in though I have not spokenThe silence speaks for me

Letting itself take the time to listenI would give myself to you

This sound I have never seenI would be the confessor

And you would speak to my good and evilYour words of silk

Full of wealth, but slip out with such easeI would hold you in my heart forever

But you would never know meFor I am just the windAnd you are an echo

I forever must drift awayAnd you just a whisper

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Trust by Christiny Reeves, 9th grade

Look at us standing there in black and whiteHand in hand, side by side

The darkness captures events from the pastThe white of the future ahead

We know the struggles we faceWe know the commitment we are making

But how can we trust

Our family is hereBut never complete

They are goneTheir rights were taken

So how do we trust

For the star you livedFor the star you diedYour cries unheardHow did you trust

Though we laughWe often cry

Not only for youBut how you died

Here we are smilingThere is still a pain

Deep sorrowAnd shame

Why could we not save youWhy was your time so short

Though we laugh at memoriesThe pain still hurts

Why did you trust us

59Dylan Lister, 12th grade

We now must trust each otherTo stand man and wife

To live in unisonFrom this point on

The rice has been thrown The vows have been said

But should we trust

We now must live in a worldWe thought we would never see

Though grim and drearyFilled with beauty

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Swiggidy Swag Sauce by William Roddenberry, 12th grade

I look over the rainbow and there’s only sky to seeThe journey looking up is the part enticing meLike how does something we can’t touch and that’s so far aboveRemind me of a thing that is as close to me as love?

The first time that I saw her, I knew that she was a queenDraped in robes of purple, amethyst in her crown gleamsBack when all I knew about her was about the beautyThat she sports in and out, and it was gently but profusely

After I saw her leaving, leading off into the distanceI shrugged and then I told myself it doesn’t make a differenceBut later it was only me and only then I knewThat her not being with me only’d leave me blue

Later I was green with envy; she knew someone elseAnd this is when I thought I had a chance to prove myselfThis feeling was so new to me, I thought it was from marsIt was a brand new kind of hatred, so strong that it made me see stars

But over time I’d see her and still make myself feel mellowA certain sort of calm I feel whenever I see yellowBut beyond that the jaundice makes me feel a sort of joyThat comes when there’s connection with a girl and a boy

Orange in the sky I see in the morning, in the dawnAnd dawn is the beginning like what I feel going onIt’s something, that like citrus is a natural sort of sweetThat you can feel through your body, head above heart beneath

Then there’s red. Red’s the color of the love and of the passionThe color that’s the climax of the story that has happenedThe story of the time you just let go, abandoned reasonThe story of the time you really thought you would lean in

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Red, the color of the lips you longed to kissThe blood that’s moving faster when you think about the blissYour eyes move down the rainbow, for you’re looking down to tryBut all the colors that you see leave questions in your eyes

Sunrises are orange but orange is sunsetI wonder if I’m someone she ever would forgetAnd if that is the case, do I really want to kiss her?My mind tells her to stop, and then my mouth utters the word

I’m yellow now again because I fear my chance is lostBut I fear even more what would have happened if the glossHad touched me on the lips, I think I fear it even stillOn the other hand I want it, but I fear I never will

I’m green with envy for the one who would have gone ahead and done it‘Cause I want it in my stomach, but my brain really doesn’tI’m jealous of her, who’s so emotionally drivenI don’t even think the consequence was part of her decision

The blue just intensifies what I already knewHow sadness just so happens to be a part of what is trueAnd why are people always saying water is blueWhen my tears and my emotions are just so easy to see through

Now I’m back down at the bottom and I linger on the purpleJust to think how going through so much, I finally come full circleAnd when I finally realize this is for another dayThen purple is my shadow when I finally step away

So now that I’m back down on earth and not up in the skyI realize I may never truly love before I dieAnd now whenever I look up at rainbows from beneathI am constantly reminded of the things I’ll never reach.

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Everything I Am Not by Anonymous, 9th grade

You are strong and sure and everything I am notIf I gave you up, I would be among the foolish and the blindBecause you are the sweetest of all that I have sought

Before I met you I was trapped in a web of lies, caughtIn the pull for my soul like the rest of mankindYet you are strong and sure, and everything I am not

Same old same old until you stirred my story’s plotTo all the prayers and all the cries your ear was inclinedBecause you are the sweetest of all that I have sought

To thank you for all that you have done for me, oh I cannotFor the bad and the ugly within me you have refinedFor you are strong and sure, and everything I am not

To give my life for you, oh I oughtShame on me if I get struck in the world’s daily grindBecause you are the sweetest of all that I have sought

To capture the King’s eye would be a long shotBut you never wanted to leave me behindBecause you are strong and sure, and everything that I am notFor you are the sweetest of all that I have sought

On Life and Its Struggles...

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Roller Coaster by Joshua Harvey, 9th Grade

Life is a roller coasterYou may get sick of itOr enjoy all of itNo matter what there will always be another hillYou will pull through until the end

Some parts are greatWhile others can be a struggleYou might get sick and want to give upBut you can see the finish line just aheadLife is a roller coaster


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Scrooge’s Version, a parody By Kennedy Cauley, 7th Grade(Sung to the tune of “You’re a Mean One, Mr. Grinch” by Theodore “Dr. Seuss” Geisel and Albert Hague)

You’re a great one, Mr. Grinch.You really are a thrill.You’re as delightful as paycheck,You’re as charming as a meal,Mr. Grinch.You’re a bag of coins with a hundred dollar bill.You stole Christmas, Mr. Grinch.Your heart is made of coal.Your spirit is full of hatred,There’s no Christmas in your soul, Mr. Grinch.I wouldn’t touch Christmas with aThirty-nine and half foot pole.You’re a bright one, Mr. Grinch.You have ideas in your mindYou have all of Whoville’s presents packed in your homemade sleighMr. GrinchIf Christmas better die, it better do itAnd decrease the surplus population.You’re a sly one, Mr. Grinch.You’re a sneaky, weaky fox.Your brain is full of Christmas spite.You stole every single box,Mr. Grinch.The best words that describe Christmas,Are as follows, and I quote“Bah!HUM!BUG!”

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Scrooge’s Wonderland, a parody by Bree Luther and Karsten Herron, 7th Grade (Sung to the tune of Winter Wonderland, by Felix Bernard and Richard B. Smith)

Scrooge was mean,Are you listenin’?There was a girl,She was glistenin’Her name was Belle,She was in a spell,Because he liked money more than her. She realized she was his honey,He didn’t love her as much as money.So she said good-bye with a twinkle in her eye,Walking out Scrooges’ wonderland. Then Christmas past came at twelve,He said come with me we’ll visit Belle.Scrooge said “Are you kidding?”He said, “No man”But you can come with me she’s doing well. When they arrived and he saw her,He didn’t know she had a daughter.And not much less,A hubby at best,All cuddling right beside her. When he realized what he had done,Scrooge said let me leave this isn’t fun.The ghost said, “Are you kidding.”Scrooge said, “No man.”I knew I shouldn’t have ran. He was sad,Now he’s listenin’His personality is now glistenin’.He change his ways,Now he’s out of the daze.Walking in his new wonderland. Walking in his new wonderland,Walking in his new wonderland.

67Neal Tolbert, 12th grade

Dark, a found poem by Grace Ford, 12th grade

Dark shattered his hopesStill very crushedQuite forgotten; Pale and dimAnd yet not far enough.SuddenlyGo back? Go sideways?Feeling the patter pitterCertainly a tight placeNot quite ordinaryQuite differentStill not notAlso wonderfully wise

Broken, a found poem by Tucker Braddy, 12th grade

God Almighty! Would they actually die?Would they disappear?Where society had never been broken

The Wedding , a found poem by Callie Wilson, 12th grade

Her wedding dayWhite clothesThey painted her with powderPrepared her for marriageA proper maidBurst with prideThere is a marriageA merry day

69Taylor Chapman, 12th grade

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Comatose A Short Story by Gabby Lindau, 8th grade My name is Jackson, and I died today. It’s a whole lot different than I expected. I could think, I could talk, I could even feel. But I’ll get to that later. You’re probably wondering where I’m gonna go with this, but just listen to me. I, I have a crappy life. At least I thought I did, before I almost lost it for good. You see, I grew up in the projects, and I got mixed up with some bad company. I was what a lot of old ladies would call a hoodlum and who a lot of people in the suburbs would imagine carrying their TV out of a window. I’m just fifteen, and I’ve belonged to the Black Blood society for two years. The Black Bloods are a large gang of teens and a few adults here in the gut of Boston. I don’t even want to tell you half of what goes on in the place. It’s not like anyone cares, though, especially my dad, well my mom tells me he’s my dad. Bless her heart, my mom herself ’s an angel, but my dad, ha, I have no words for that-- Well, anyway. I was actually desperate to join a gang as I grew up. I remember crying myself to sleep behind the couch in my living room, listening to my mom screaming and my father on a drunken rampage, smashing plates and knocking over chairs. Now, whenever I don’t want to fall asleep listening to my parents, I hike over to another member’s house or one of our small hideouts hidden along streets whenever we run into the cops, and crash. Well, now that you know the nutshell of my life story, I guess I can tell you about what happened. Eleven forty-five: That’s when it happened. I rode up to my house at ten-thirty, I saw a single light on inside. The driveway is empty, missing my dad’s crumbling, old Ford. I roll up and stash my bike in the overgrown, withering shrubs on the side of the house. Reflexively, I take the spare key out from under the rock below the porch. After opening the door I walk in and lock it back, I’ll put the key back later. I make out he silhouette of my mom sitting facing the TV. “Hey, mom,” I say half expecting an answer. “Hey, baby,” she says, not looking away from the TV.

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“You’re dad went out.” I’m glad I can’t see the bruises and scrapes on her face and body. I quietly start to make my way upstairs. “Jackson?” she says. “Yeah?” “I love you.” “I love you, too.” I walk up to my room, kick off my shoes, then just crash onto the sofa. I’m aroused suddenly after what seems like a second. I look at the clock, eleven forty-five. I had fallen asleep, and there’s more screaming downstairs. But this time the commotion is different from before. I creep out of my room to the banister and look down. I can see shadows on the walls, one large and swinging, another smaller and frail. “Oh, what’s the matter Racheal, am I too loud for you?” I hear my father’s infuriated tone, his words are slurred. “Charles, I- I can just take Jackson and go.” I want to dismiss what I’m hearing, but something doesn’t sit right with me about this fight. “No! This chair, this TV, this whole house is mine!” “Charles, please, you’ll get the neighbors to call the cops again!” Suddenly, I see the shadow pull something out and point it at the other. My heart sinks, I hear a bang and I’m blinded by a flash. I can’t stop myself from letting out a short but loud cry. “Jackson?” I hear my dad. My heart drops again. “Come here, boy!” he barks. I don’t waste any time leaping back up the stairs and getting into my room. I hear quick footsteps coming up the stairs behind me. I reach for the doorknob of the door to my room, but that’s as close as I come before a large hand clamps around my forearm. Even though he’s drunk he is still stronger than me. He drags me out to his truck and throws me in, slamming the door. He hops in, and after fumbling with the keys with some words I don’t care to repeat, he tears out of the driveway and down the street. “The neighbors probably already called the cops,” he thought out loud, “but we won’t be there when they come.” After speeding down the streets and running a red light, I hear a siren and look back, seeing a police car approaching. Dad speeds up, and we rip

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down the streets through intersections, and I see cars zipping past trying to avoid our two ton projectile. The police car tails us for a good few minutes, but then we reach the entrance of a highway. We make a wide turn and slide over the blacktop. I see another black and white draw up on us-- the lights are flashing and the sirens are whirring. On the highway traffic is denser and my sense-deprived parent serpentines over the road. I don’t think before throwing my hands up on the steering wheel and try to pull the car over, until he pries my fingers away and barks at me to quit. Somehow a police car comes up to my side of the car. I see a silhouette turn its head and look at me, then pick up a radio. Ten minutes later we’re still speeding, and I’m getting more scared than before, and I knew the only reason they hadn’t taken out my dad yet was because I am in the car. Suddenly, our speed increases tremendously. I look over to see my dad slumped over the wheel, all the alcohol and sleeplessness have caught up with him, but at both our expenses. I grasp the wheel again, but it won’t budge with all the weight pinned to it. Dad had collapsed with his foot on the gas pedal and all his weight forced it down. We slowly careen to the guard rail. Sparks fly as metal meets metal. I’m going deaf from the screeching. Suddenly, the rail gives way, and I lose all feeling in my stomach as the truck dips to the side, and we capsize. There’s a sharp pain in my neck as the air bag deploys, slamming into my body. We continue to violently tumble until we land upside down. I land like I’m standing on my head, the pain in my neck grows tremendous, and as I see headlights shining as the cars pull up behind us, the darkness comes. Suddenly, the weirdest thing happens. I wake up. I’m in a tunnel, like a mineshaft. It’s sloped upward and I hear multiple, whispering voices. I see a bright white light shining at the end. I look down, I’m still in my clothes from the crash. I can’t help but wonder where I am, how I got here, and what happened? I take a step, my leg feels like it has invisible weights tied to it, but walking gradually grows easier as I near the light.

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I reach the end and am almost blinded. I hesitate before continuing, but then I take a deep breath and walk through. What I see next, I cannot accurately describe. The cave that should have been behind me was gone, I look down and I’m standing on a cloud. The light all around me is so bright I can barely see, it’s like standing on a star. I hear the voices from the cave grow even stronger now. But eventually my eyes become adjusted to the light, and my heart flutters at what I see. A humongous man sits on a throne made of pure gold, his robe the most pure color of white. He stretches up into the sky so high I can’t see his face. The sky is the most beautiful crystalline blue, more gorgeous than I’d ever seen it back home. On either side of the throne are large, golden stands that you’d see for a jury in a courtroom. In them are several people wearing white robes tied with gold ropes, pure white wings project from their backs, and rings of light shine around their heads. They stand singing songs with the most beautiful voices. Behind the man are storm clouds, lightning leaps from cloud to cloud, but the thunder’s roar is soft. I look up, and above the top of the throne are four creatures flying back and forth. They all have up to six wings and are covered in eyes, they would have been horrifying on Earth, but here they seem remarkably beautiful. One looks like a lion, the other like a bull, or a horse. Another looks like an eagle and the last one has the face of a man. They all circle back and forth over the throne, pedestal to pedestal, and cry with echoing, angelic voices, “Holy, holy, holy Lord God almighty. Who was and is, and is to come. The Earth is full of thy glory!” When I look around and begin to process what I’m looking at, there is a shooting pain in the back of my throat, I feel tears in my eyes. I want to cry, everything here is so beautiful and intense. I’ve never felt so happy. Every bit of stress, pain, fear and anger is gone, in my heart I feel undoubtedly free. Suddenly, I’m yanked backward, clean off my feet. I quickly and uncontrollably retreat from the sight, the force like going down a roller coaster hill. I close my eyes and hold my breath.

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Suddenly, I no longer feel the invisible force. I open my eyes. I’m back in the tunnel, only this time when I look ahead of me it’s aimed downward, and at the end I see flickering red light and hear screaming. My heart sinks, and I freeze, but at the same time there’s something in my brain. A renegade impulse that forces me to walk forward, like a puppeteer pulling his marionette’s strings. As I near the light I grow more and more terrified, and against my own will I walk over the threshold. I open my eyes and I’m standing in front of what looks like the inside of a prison. Caves in the rock like cells run the walls which stretch as tall and as far as I can see. Suddenly, a cloaked figure, which comes up to stomach height, walks up to me. He gestures me to follow him and I find my strings being manipulated again. He pauses outside the first cell and points toward the inside of it. Inside is a woman who is walking through a meadow. I’m confused, if this is the place I thought it was, something isn’t right. The woman comes upon a house, and on the front porch sits her grandmother in a rocking chair. But I saw what the woman

Denny Deng, 10th grade

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couldn’t--the woman on the porch wasn’t her beloved elder, but a demon playing her part. She greeted her by saying things like, “You made it to heaven! Honey, welcome home. I’m so glad you’re here.” I feel my heart sink for no reason, and before I can see any more my robed guide is off again. He walks me further down the infinite row, and he stops at another door. Inside is a man who looks from the twenties. He wears the pin-striped suit and hat of a mobster, and he is in a pool house. He believes he is on some kind of break from his torments, and he is just shooting his cue stick. Then comes along a demon disguised as a mob boss, and begins to assault him. I feel terror start to set in and my guide goes again. The next cell holds a woman, who instead of God, worshipped the trees and the sun, psychedelics and the earth. It is night in her cell and she, along with demons disguised as others, are dancing around a fire. She looks scared and suddenly the demons walk up. One picks up a rock, and says, “How about this rock? Will it save you?” it jeers, then strikes her on the head with it. Another picks up a thorn tendril. “Or these thorns?” and they drag them down her arms. I don’t hesitate to hurry along as my guide starts on his way again. The sound of their disturbing laughter lingers in the back of my head. This time we stroll for what seems like several minutes, and come to a cell of someone I recognize. One of the most infamous men in history, Adolf. He’s screaming, trapped inside a gas chamber like the ones he’d used to execute millions of innocent people. And he’s burning, I can see in his eyes that he’s feeling tremendous pain. The pain he put all of those weaker than him through while he was on Earth. One last time my guide moves on. We pass by multiple other cells, and the whole time there is a voice in the back of my head. It feels powerful and sweet, almost alluring. It says things like, “Why would such a good God allow all this suffering? Half of these people don’t even really deserve it! If he really does always forgive, why does this place exist?” It was trying to get me to curse God, the being I saw just a minute ago. The demon ahead of me suddenly stops, and to the side of me is an empty cell. The door is open, and he points inside it. Suddenly, I hear

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screaming of a familiar voice, and I see two large beasts carrying my hateful, waste-of-space father. “No, no!” he screams over, and over. He yells several vulgar words and lashes out desperately, then he sees me. “Let go of m-- Wait, Jackson?! You’re here, too? Quick, vouch for me!” I’m frozen as they come closer toward us. “Do something!” They carry him over to the cell and literally throw him in. The door is slammed shut, a metal bang that echoes in my ears. I start to back away. I don’t know where I’ll go, but anywhere away from here. The hooded figure who was my guide slowly starts to turn towards me. I’m ready to turn tail and run. The demon faces me, his face hidden. It’s like I’m staring into an abyss of death. The demon starts to grow exponentially, and so does the volume of the screaming around us. I want to scream, too, but find the breath caught in my throat as two bright red eyes appear in the shadow of the hood, like burning coals. Suddenly, I feel a presence behind me, two hands clasp my shoulders, but I can’t take my eyes off what is before me to see who it is. The giant horror suddenly dives forward, the eyes quickly falling to crush me. I clench my eyes shut and whatever’s behind wraps around me. I wait for something. I don’t know what I am expecting, but whatever it is never comes. I brace myself and open my eyes. I see one man standing in front of me. He looks at me expressionless, his eyes look as if they have a literal fire burning behind them. I see obvious scars on his face and neck, some light, but some very deep. I look up, and sitting on top of his head is a sparkling golden crown. And he wears a red robe, it’s been soaked in blood. A silky purple sash drapes over his shoulder across it. I look down, on the backs of his hands I see large red scars, and on the tops of his feet I see the same thing. I pull my eyes away from him and look at our surroundings. We’re perched on a cloud again, white mist rolling all around us. The sapphire sky stretching in all directions, and the glowing sun in the distance. I return my attention to him. He blinks, and the fire recedes from his eyes. Revealing a kind, nurturing gaze. My lip quivers, tears start to build up in my eyes. I fall to my knees and start crying my eyes out. The reality of everything I’d just seen--heaven, hell, and the

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man standing in front of me, had devastated my heart. I feel joy and sadness bash together in my spirit. There’s an unidentifiable feeling in my soul. Oh, my soul, what all have I done! I feel a hand on my shoulder again, and I look up through the tears. He smiles at me, and I struggle to return it. He helps me to my feet and pulls me into a hug. I just stand there and close my eyes. The same darkness I saw in the car wreck finds me again, and I distantly hear the rhythmic chirp of a heart monitor. There is a bright flash of light, and a second later I snap my eyes open and draw a sharp, painful breath. The joyous feeling has suddenly left me. I want to move, but find that I can’t. I roll my eyes to check out my surroundings, and I realize, I’m lying in a hospital room.

Tesch Jerles, 11th grade

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Do you think it is safe to be driving the roads with a blindfold? No, that’s crazy! Then how is it any better to be using a phone while driving? It is not worth the risk of endangering yourself and others just for a phone call. Drivers should be banned from using cell phone because they can cause you to swerve off the road, crash and severely injure yourself, you could hit another person because of lack of focus, and you could break the law by speeding or getting a ticket.

Swerving off the road is just one of the many life changing things that can happen to you while using a cell phone and driving. Your brain is not capable of talking or texting while driving, says David Slayer from the Huffington Post. This type of multitasking is near impossible for people to do safely. Besides a close to death experience you may encounter when you swerve off the road, your car can be seriously damaged. You will also be facing fines since texting while driving is now illegal in the United States.

Sirens are the last things you will hear before being locked behind bars. Besides being extremely dangerous, texting while driving is a felony. If you get lucky enough for a police officer not to notice you texting while driving, he will surely notice you speeding recklessly. Not being totally focused on driving will cause you to speed. The payment for a ticket is getting more costly by the day. Is it really worth going to jail and wasting money just over a text you could have waited for?

Texting while driving means you are not looking a the road, therefore you wouldn’t be able to see if a person walked in front of you. Even if you have extremely fast reflexes it still wouldn’t be enough. Death is one of the worst subjects to think about. Just talking about it upsets people. Could you even imagine how you would feel if you were the one responsible for taking another person’s life? It is not worth the risk of killing a person

On Texting and DrivingAn Essay by Casey Kilburg, 10th grade

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just to look at a text you could’ve waited to see. Furthermore, the risks of seriously injuring yourself, speeding, and killing an innocent person are not worth it. Unfortunately, most people do not make the responsible decision to put down their phone to wait until they are safely off the road. Therefore, cell phones should be banned from the driver. Roads will be much safer for the people driving and the people walking without distracted drivers.

Ballad of a Senior by Paul Young, 12th grade

As I wander the halls I think,To what have we contributed as a class?At first I become doubtful,Thinking that we’ve been merely pains in the…..neck.On further reflection, though,The grandeur of our experience, it begins to grow.Memories of friendship settle in my thoughts,Of pain, of sadness, by classes mutually wrought.I remember friends old and friends new,All the relationships, the good and the bad, we’ve accrued.As I wander the halls I think,To what have we contributed as a class?And then it dawns on me,As a class we have affected things not bound by the school.We have affected things not bound by this town,Things not bound by this nation or anything but God Himself.The answer to my question,To what have we contributed as a class?One another.

On Being a Senior...

Caroline Stroud, 12th grade

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Where Do I Go? by Megan Sparks, 12th grade

I’m done with this place but where do I go?All the people and good times are just memories now.What if my life isn’t Great?What if I get lost?Where do I go?The obstacles might defeat me, and I will failHow do I learn to prevail?People will lead me astrayI might lose sight of what I want Where do I go?My dreams may fall through, and my goals mightBe unattainable.Boredom and loneliness are not an option. Where do I go?FORWARD.

Bentlie Grice, 12th grade

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Baccalaureate Speech by Bentle Grice, 12th grade

When I first walked through the doors of FPD as a kindergartner, I had no clue what God would have in store for me. It is hard to believe that after 13 years, FPD will no longer be a place I attend on a regular basis; however, I know I will always be able to call it home. As I look back on my time here, I can see how God showed His faithfulness to me not only in the big picture, but in the details—every day, every teacher, every coach, and every friend. I will forever remember my second grade teacher, Mrs. Albright, who was one of the main influences that led me to Christ at such a young age. Not only did she foster what was already going on in my heart, she went out of her way to come to my baptism and gave me a gift and personal note afterwards. I have been blessed to have teachers like her that care about me beyond the classroom all the way through high school. In AP Euro, Coach A taught me more than just history. For the first time, I learned how to actually study. His class was tough, but he pushed us to always do our best in all areas because he truly loved us and wanted to see us succeed. In multiple art classes, Mrs. Butler challenged me to get outside my comfort zone and really hone skills I didn’t know I had. She took time out of her personal life to invest her knowledge of art in us. Bible classes taught me to apply Biblical standards to current issues and deepened my faith. FPD is full of teachers who live and breathe our mission statement—“to educate and equip students to change the world for God’s glory.” Coaches, like Amy Kenney, have shown Christ-like love by graciously pouring their time into me and doubling as leaders and great listeners. Amy will stop whatever she’s doing in a heart beat to have a conversation with one of her cheerleaders about anything that’s been on their mind. People like her at FPD have taught me to genuinely care about others and to love like Jesus does. Unforgettable friendships have also been made along the way. I can remember countless times when friends have picked me up when I’ve been down and celebrated with me in some of my happiest moments.

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Because God placed me at FPD, I have been impacted by some pretty incredible people that otherwise, I might not have ever encountered. As the year has drawn to a close, I have been flooded with lots emotions, but mostly thankfulness. I am so thankful to have spent my kindergarten, elementary, middle and high school years surrounded by people who loved me and encouraged me to chase after God’s plan for my life. For most families, sending children to FPD is a sacrifice, but I think it is one of the greatest gifts parents could ever give because it is something that can never be taken away from us—a solid education, and more importantly, an upbringing in Christian values. There is no doubt in my mind that I would not be who I am today if it weren’t for the love, instruction, and support I’ve received from my school. Because of the fine Christian examples that FPD has chosen as faculty, God’s faithfulness has been shown to me through His people. During the fall semester of my senior year, I got sick with mono. Coming back to school was stressful for me because I had so much work to make up. I can remember one morning that was particularly rough for me. As I was walking down the hallway, Mr. Hall stopped me and said, “Hey Bentlie! It’s so good to see you here! I’ve really been praying for you and I hope you are feeling better.” I don’t think he even realized how much it meant to me, but it was so awesome to see that someone at school cared that I was there and wanted to see me doing well. There have been numerous times when I have felt that my day couldn’t get any worse, or that I really just wouldn’t make it and God has used someone at FPD to remind me that He is holding me in His hand. A day doesn’t go by that a faculty member doesn’t stop to show Christian love and concern to a student. Though the Christian walk is full of high and low points, FPD has always been a firm foundation for me to stand on and has been a constant reminder of Philippians 1:6—“He who began a good work in you will be faithful to complete it.”

edda 2014

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