Youth Blog Entries

 
Written by Tracie and posted on 04/14/2014 - 2:49pm

The teen advisory board of the UAPL recently held a poetry contest.  The 5-8 Division winner was Lexi R. and the 9-12 Division winner was Beth B.  Here are the two winning poems:

 

Meshed String by Lexi R.

(In celebration of Earth Day)

She sits on the meshed string

feeling the water splash up and hit her shoulders

feeling the grinning sun on her back

mixing with the dirt turning her skin a leathery brown

calloused hands

scratched and bruised limbs going unnoticed amongst the large swarms of insects

 

She sits on the meshed string

feeling the burn from her head to her toe, from the weeks of hard effort and work with little

rest

tired

hungry

sore

 

She sits on the meshed string

hearing the songs being sung by her friends

though she pays no attention

she hears the birds chirping

hears the coyotes howling

bears growling

 

She sits on the meshed string

knowing that soon they would eat

soon they would swim

soon they would sleep

She sits on the meshed string

feeling the blade of a paddles course through the water with fluid ease

noises not of industry or traffic but of swaying flora and restless fauna

 

She sits on the meshed string

driving the paddle blade in the water

pulling the paddle out

repeating the endless motion over

 

She sits on the meshed string

she sees the fishes pawing through the water

sees her friends smiling and laughing

sees the trees swaying around her

sees everything stop for just that moment

 

I sit in a wooden chair

writing this

thinking about what to write

thinking about my time sitting on the meshed string

 

Because I am her

 

Yet she is a different half of I

 

same hair

same person

same name

same likes and dislikes

 

Yet two entirely different people

 

Because she is I

 

 

Who Am I? by Beth B.

Did you see that scared looking girl today?

That is me, the daughter of Janine.

I am fourteen and go to the Metro school,

There I spend most of my days working.

 

There I am quiet, and have lost my way,

I don't know who I am anymore.

Writer, drawer, dreamer, stressor, a fool,

Maybe all, maybe none, I don't know.

 

I struggle in a sea of work and tears,

Not sure whether I'm happy or sad,

Both, neither, everyday, or not at all,

Lost, still unfound, searching for a way.

 

Here I stand,

Here I'll stay

Maybe onward

To my dying day.