Day 21

Easter Monday at Trinity
by S.A. Bowden

In the literature class I shadowed
The teacher called on me to answer some questions
And read a stanza of the Sylvia Plath poem when the class
Geez, was her father that awful?
Daddy, Daddy, you– bad word– I’m through
And then came the sweet little poem about her baby

The poster said
We will endure
We will not break.
Too late, I thought.
I already broke.
You do not need to be unbroken to endure.

Mom said I shouldn’t
Hold my one writing seminar experience against Hopkins
Just as I was becoming sure I liked
Trinity more than Hopkins.
I thought, Then how do I judge
Which one I like more?

Mom says
My experience is the only solid, real thing
The only thing I can base my judgement on
But what if my experience isn’t real, or typical?
What if it’s all wrong?


Silent Voices
by Mya Smith

We all have voices,

But some of ours aren’t heard.

They may be heard,

But they aren’t acknowledged.

We all deserve to be heard.

Be heard, be strong, be proud.

Some of us are silenced.

By society, by ourselves…

We all need to be heard.

We deserve to have a voice.

If we can’t be heard…

What’s the point?



by Sam Yoseph

Staring at the problem
Too hard,
I make myself think
Too much.

Pencil clicking on the desk
So loud,
My eyes wander off
So away.


I gotta focus.

Think, think, think,

The clouds begin to darken,
Water collecting quick and fast,
And the sound of tiny feet
Walk on glass.


The sun is covered by rain,
It\s shine no longer bright,
And the sound of giant leaps
Jump on grass.


I click my pencil on the desk,
My foot tapping on the ground


The teacher calls on me,
Pointing on the board,
And tells me with understanding,
Answer number five.


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