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Inner Beauty

The way we perceive makeup is to hide,

The flaws we are unable to control.

We cover up real beauty and we cried,

Because we too disguise the inner soul

We must see our buried beauty deep,

Within the very skin we are afraid

To show, so we must know and learn and keep,

The knowledge that by makeup, we are swayed.

Each day we see this person staring back,

A body that is fearful of display.

We cover up ourselves and feel the lack,

Of joy that causes the day to be grey.

But I still wear my makeup everyday,

So my heart cannot feel so much dismay.

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By Alex Kao
-side comment : RIP i'm not even gonna be at class

Don Juan Ribero took his photos well

Grand mom enjoyed his pictures up until

Grand mom took Paulina to show and tell

Don Juan refused the check and wanted skill

Determination shone within her eyes

She would not give up on her mighty feat

The young girl stayed behind to claim her prize

Don Juan ignored her he just went to eat

She sat awaiting master Don to come

Hours passed, just brown, stone stairs for company

She thought about returning to her mum

Would she even be accepted by he?

Don Juan returned, his heart could not stop her

He relented and responded by “sure”

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Brown fur and paws, he ran across us all.

The dog was playing fetch and running fast.

He was a Beagle named Eddy who jumped

Above the mountains of his owners home.

Eddy, with his white collar, he looked clean.

His eyes were vibrant blue as they looked

Intoyou; seeing your biggest truths.

He ran away fast and we all laughed.

Then, we walked down to the rustic house.

It had very tall curtains on the walls.

The one of the dog we saw, shocked us all.

On the floor we saw a big black mouse.

It ran in a hole far off in a wall

While we ran back to get to get to study hall.

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There was a picnic at the pretty park.

On the park benches rested plates of food,

And on the blanket laid a meadow lark.

The picnic blanket set a pretty mood.

A stunning girl was present on a date.

Her boyfriend brought her to a peaceful place,

And there they rested until it was late,

While eating at the beautiful park space.

The meadow lark sang pretty songs of tweets,

As the nice gentleman and woman sat

On the soft blanket eating all their treats.

They quickly stood to vacate whilst they chat,

But before leaving, he dropped to a knee

Pulled out a ring and stated: marry me?

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Along the dirt road, trees cover the gaps

The morning mist coming through the branches

The Autumn haze filling the atmosphere

A colored leaf falls slowly from a tree.

Snow-capped mountains loom off in the distance,

Imposing, yet inviting all at once,

Beckoning those who dare to approach them,

Symbolizing the end of the highway.

Beneath the peaks, a log cabin resides

A source of warmth amidst the sterile cold

Welcoming those who have been abandoned

A place to go and find tranquility.

Many a man have dropped by this cabin

Never to return to reality.

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The beat of music pulses through my brain

Foot tapping to the tune, I start to sing

Drums sounding like the noise of falling rain

I can hear guitars strumming every string

It now gets louder, flooding through my veins

The walls of sound surround my every side

And I am free unbound by any chains

Now everybody’s watching I can’t hide

I focus on my breath supporting me

I’m standing tall nothing can knock me down

Unfazed by troubles of reality

I know I cannot sink I will not drown

Remaining strong and proud from start to end

But even if I’m not I must pretend

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Josh Gross

The raging water wreaks extreme turmoil,

Aggressively invading the seaboard.

Causing destruction that damaged the soil,

The once ideal land fails to be restored.

The disaster came to obliterate,

As it flooded the town with tragedy.

Donations were made to help re-create,

The city that it took so rapidly.

Already mourning the mass that was killed;

Nobody goes through this unaffected.

Every single crevice left fulfilled,

While it came completely unexpected.

Grief possessed the bodies of each dweller,

As all civilians searched for shelter.

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Miss Hubbard

Though nothing can outmatch the written word,

I am afraid to enter English class

Since I am taught by Miss Hubbard,

Whose lack of skill in handwriting I simply can’t surpass.

Don’t get me wrong; her teaching is the best;

That never made an issue in the past,

But illegible comments on my test

And hieroglyphics get old very fast.

Although her penciled words are so deformed,

She can still read aloud her cryptic script;

But even so I now demand reform

To try and change this classroom bit by bit.

Petition the administration, go!

But disregard my penmanship, please, though.

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I used to think the next day was given,

And some goodbyes would never be the last.

I hated night; the world was less driven.

My nightmares starting to raise eerie masts.

I miss the times I lived in ignorance,

Trusting that friendships meant enduring bonds

And no solitude: fatal inference.

Those bonds sometimes lasted only till dawn.

All things gold quit; joy always takes its bow.

Contentment leaves, yet comes at beck and call.

It spoils daydreamersand leaves empty vows

Don’t waste your time, or you will surely fall.

You live that minute, day only one time.

Make your move before the Fates cut your line.

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