This is a collection of poems written by seniors in Mrs. Gambill’s AP Literature class. who recently studied poetry. Students were tasked with writing their own poems featuring different types of poetic elements and structure. 

Riley Altiere: “If you could be anyone else in the world, who would you be?”

When I was younger people would ask me, 

“If you could be anyone else in the world, 

Who would you be?” I’d say myself–

It was an honest and simple answer, 

Just me and my wild, crazy hair,

The dark curls a suit of armor I was proud to wear.

I loved how dark my hair

Made the greens and browns

In my eyes stand out

Like a forest on a sunny day,

How the curls showed my carelessness

And my confidence.

I didn’t want to be any different.

But then there became a time

Where I grew ashamed of my dark brown hair,

How I felt like a burden.

And how people would say my curls

Had a mind of its own.

I no longer had the same confidence. 

I wanted to have the perfect blonde hair

Like the girls in my class.

So I dyed my hair. Again and again.

I loved the way I felt walking out of the salon

It was like giving a child candy

Except that candy became an addiction – 

And suddenly I needed more and more.

The more I dyed it, the better I felt.

And with one addiction became another.

The start of my dying frenzy prompted

The start of straightening.

The curls and the girl I was

Were burned away

Day by

Day. Now as I look in the mirror I shake my head, 

Knowing that if someone were to ask me again,

“If you could be anyone else in the world, who would you want to be?”

My answer would not be the same

Would little me still be proud?

Or would she instead grieve the person she has become?

Now I look for her in my grown out roots,

A flicker of the past I’ve left behind.

She stares back at me, a stranger’s face – 

A ghost that haunts me,

A ghost I can’t escape.

I say it’s just hair, but deep inside

I mourn something

I don’t know if I can get back.

I’ve come far, and I’ve lost a lot,

All to chase perfection,

But at what cost?

Caleigh Coherd: “My Spark”

In twilight’s hush, two hearts did collide,

A symphony of laughter, a passionate ride.

Never lost that same feeling – 

Fireworks igniting, bright, burning,

Bursting, and brilliant, a cosmic delight.

But beneath the glow, shadows conspired, 

Fireworks are explosives, 

Gunpowder concealed by a colorful display.

They light up the night with fervor and grace,

Then blow up, leaving darkness in their wake.

The spark we cherished turned to silence,

A chilling void where warmth once thrived,

The air grew heavy, thick with despair,

As the brilliance faded, leaving only the bare.

Now, in the aftermath, I walk through the night, 

Surrounded by smoke, where joy lost its fight.

In the corners of memory, the echoes resound, 

Of love’s fiery passion now lost, now drowned.

But then, a shift–a glimmer, a break,

In the depths of darkness, a new path to take.

From ashes of sorrow, I gather my heart,

Rekindling my fire, igniting my spark.

For even in shadows, a light can emerge,

With strength born of pain, a resolute surge.

I rise from the rubble, no longer confined, 

Embracing the darkness, yet seeking a new shine.

So here’s to our love that once lit the skies, 

To the lessons of loss and the strength that arises.

In this tapestry of life, both brilliant and stark,

I’ll weave in the shadows and claim back my own spark.

Campbell Cummins: “Growing Up”

The bed you once snuggled in

With the pink stuffed dog and blankets as soft as snow,

Now becomes foreign.

The car rise to school with your parents

Turns into the drop-off at the corner.

To the wave from the driveway as you steer yourself down the winding roads.

A school day filled with joy and excitement-

Mom, Dad, guess what I learned?

Now turned to studying every hour.

Mom, Dad, can’t talk

Must study.

The ABC’s and 123’s 

Now XYZs and πr²

The “enormous” words of youth

What does this mean?

Now have daily use.

Santa Claus unveiled, 

The Easter Bunny stops coming,

The Tooth Fairy’s last flight

Take me to Neverland.

Wish I never grew up.

Riley Pickren: “The Tightrope”

She walks the tightrope.

A lone dancer on a Golden Stage

Her dreams like burning stars in a midnight sky

A fierce raging river within

Fights to go free, but a soft whisper – 

“Stay close to me” – 

Beyond the world calls out – echoing like thunder

A green forest, deep and vast

But home’s roots hold fast

The fear of falling, she’ll never let go 

But sure and steady she steps; one foot in front of the other

Slowly, the tightrope fades like mist

In choosing her future

Her wings unfold and

She learns to fly.