Saying Goodbye

I am like a cloud

Drifting away without a shroud

I am like the rain

Washing away every trace of pain

I am like glass

Transparent and easy to break

I am like thunder

Unwilling to forsake

I am like a seed

That grows to transform into a tree

I am like the sun

That sets with the hope to rise again

I am like time

That never waits

I am like love

That never hates

I am like footsteps in the snow

That can’t be traced

I am like emotions

That never fades

I am like saying goodbye

That evoke a hope to meet again.

The Darkness

We all have the darkness within us,

When we break a promise and lose someone's trust,

We all have the darkness within us,

When we feel alone but everyone stares in disgust,

When in the darkness we never feel delight,

But we still try to find our light,

But when we are standing around our light,

We tend to forget those who feel fright,

We all have the darkness within us,

But there is the light that can change all,

We all have the darkness within us,

But sometimes we just have to stand tall.

Flooded

Lying on a barren road

Staring at the glistening

Blindingly clear sky

Calm

Serene

Till the rain starts falling

In heavy teardrops

Parched

You rush

To collect them all

But you only miss more

And more

Harder

And harder

Falling to your knees

Too broken to move

Paralysed 

By the impending wave that's about to

break

About to wash you away

To a place that never

Glistens

Never calms

Never changes

Only floods

With the avalanche of your 

Thoughts

Within a Heartbeat

Death, screaming whispers through my ear

The loud silence as I felt every nerve in my body let go

With every heartbeat, it came nearer and nearer

With every breath, I lay engulfed in woe

Helpless now, helpless then

They say life is just a game

But life is the player

We're the game.

The world became a blur, nothing mattered now

Neither wealth, nor poverty

All those unfulfilled dreams assigned for the future

Were all gone, in a heartbeat.

Now floating near the gates of death,

Life repeated itself before my eyes

Presenting thousands of memories within a heartbeat 

I watched as I had to

The laughter of my beloved daughters

Like foam-crested waves fading away

Screaming in delight as the ocean carried her away

Felt their tears slide through their cheeks

And drop on my hands

Like precious little raindrops, falling from the heavens 

Memories, powerful to make me smile even then

As I watched myself evaporate in the wake of defeat

The last I remember, were the blinking red lights and screeching sirens 

Panicked faces and nurses hovering upon my body

But I knew, I was destined to die

And so I did

And it all happened within a heartbeat.

The Midnight Butterfly

The midnight butterfly soars in the melancholy night,

Illuminated by the mercury glow of the moonlight,

A delicate wonder of the sunless day,

Any being that sees it,

Is called by it, to follow,

The icy touch leaves beautiful swirls of frost,

Glassy looks from the creatures of the night,

Then, leaving the stunned forest,

And borrowing some of its magic,

To restart the cycle of the peaceful night,

And the dark shadow flutters, 

Into the moon, the star of the world,

The midnight butterfly, the talisman of the forest,

Soars through the melancholy night.

The Blue House at the End of The Lane

All the houses

on my street, 

are grey.

Except for the last.

The blue house,

at the end of the lane

My parents,

and the other adults on the street

warn us 

not to venture too far

towards the blue

But, I am young

I am reckless

One day,

A few months ago

I rode my bicycle to the end of the lane

to the blue house

propped it on sky-coloured bricks

I peered inside the window

A canvas of yellow tulips

above rows of rainbow books

lining crimson shelves

Sitting on a rose Persian rug 

And on a vividly blue chair

Sat an old man

He too

looked blue 

One day,

A few weeks ago

I rode my bicycle to the end of the lane

to the blue house

propped it on sky-coloured bricks

This time,

the old man was sitting on his blue porch 

He looked up as he heard feet scrape concrete 

in front of his blue, blue house 

“The world has turned grey and dark”

Said he

“When I was younger the world was different.

Full of culture and life

Children these days do not know what vibrancy feels like.”

He used a lot of familiar terms

in his monologue 

Words I now know

but did not then

You may have heard of them,

in history class

I think they are called,

Colours.

Origami

I am an olive coloured piece of origami paper. 

You are a peach coloured piece of origami paper. 

She is a pale toned piece of origami paper.

He is a brown piece of origami paper. 

Just because we’re all a different shade of paper, 

does that change the way we fold and make up something beautiful? 

Is the whole idea of origami about the colour,

or the way a flat piece of paper 

can be turned into a swan?

By Aria Bupendra

Immigrant

The long lines were getting shorter

Or, I was getting closer

Something awaits me

An evil so great

In its hands, lies my fate.

Desk is near

Voyage was tough

Knees could buckle any instant

Anxiety, Fear, Hope

Keep me up.

The refugee before

Disappears from view

Bones ever so sore

I step

Trembling, tears.

The immigration officer

Fate holder.

He asks

“Who are you?”

I answer shakily

“A refugee running from war where I became sorrow.”

He asks again

“Why are you here?”

“I have no home, sir.

Lost it to bombs.

I heard here, there is humanity and love”.

He asks

“What will you do here?”
I say

“I will work, cry and wish for peace.

For that is all I can do.”

The officer looks up

Tears in his eyes

“You want to find peace”

“I shall let you pass.

You no longer have to hide.

Here you will stay safe,

here you will thrive.

Go find your peace.”

“Sir, thank you.

I owe you my life.

But I need not find peace,

For it is already found.”

And I smiled.

- Raniyah Basheer

Paper Mâché

What is art?

Do we have the right to judge it?

No. 

Because art is an oil spill. 

It leaks into other people’s lives and makes a beautiful, tragic mess of itself.

The human race is known for saying,

‘Be yourself’

‘Everyone else is already taken’

You say be yourself, but what if you don’t know what to be?

Do you just throw whatever you think you might be out there and hope it crawls above the line of social acceptability?

Why?

Why should someone else be able to define your quality of art? 

Art is whatever you make of it so should you be able to define it?

Critique it?

Judge it?

Rip it bit by bit and build it up towards your standards?

Step on it?

Crush it and it’s founder?

You and I are 

tiny pieces of paper mache 

that feed into each other to create 

something, somewhat beautiful 

You attach yourself to people you may never be able to have. 

We’re people. 

We pry into each other’s paper pieces and feed of grief and sorrow.

Is this beauty?

Or is beauty just another love poem? 

Just like how I’m another puny, powerless, piece of paper and so are you. 

By Aria Bupendra

Once

there was once a boy

who didn't know love.

He lived in an empty mansion

with creaking hallways

and looming walls.

all alone.



there was once a girl

who loved with everything she had.

She didn't have much,

but her heart she gave to all.

it broke her.



He was told he had potential.

She was told she had no chance.

He was told he was a prodigy.

She was told she was worthless.

He thought they were wrong.

She thought they were right.



they were different

in every way

it was possible to be.

the odds were stacked against them.

He, rich. She, poor.

society simply did not allow it.

the barrier was strong

separating them.

rich, from poor.

lucky, from unlucky.

but no matter.



once there was a boy and a girl

who loved each other more than anything.

He took her,

made her his queen.

and the world suffered



because of it.




By Millie Alchin

Skinnier

Once,

She had friends

She had foes

She had flesh

Now,

She has blades

She has bones

She has bruises

The smaller she gets

The harder she tries

The less she eats

The bigger the lies

She thinks to herself

If she cuts off the fat,

If she slices it away,

It won’t come back

She’s better like this

She’s prettier

But she has to be,

Skinnier

Skinnier

She’s got a hollow chest

She’s the gap between her thighs

She’s got a hollow head

She’s a mouth full of lies

She’s supposed to be sweet

Little white lies and compliments

But you’ll find a grapefruit in her teeth

Bitter stones where her heart’s supposed to be

She’s better like this,

She’s prettier

She’s sour but prouder

She’s skinnier

Skinnier

- By Heidi Foster

A Dark Wish

A dark wish

is within us all.

Pain and anguish

is within our call.



A dark wish

is within us all.

A thirst for power

is consuming us all.



People tell us, to push it in.

People tell us, that it is a sin.



We keep it deep down.

Where it’s going to grow.

Deeper down

with nowhere to go.



We keep it deep down and

gunshots are heard.

Deeper down where

people are purged.



Where the ends do not justify the means.

And they will bring upon thousands of screams.



People who have evil minds amongst them

The consciousness will actively deny them

the ability to purge the evil inside them

And break the barrier that truly divides them

From the power that makes them and truly,

breaks them.



For we are the same monster as them...

And that is why we cannot fight them



And a dark wish is within us all.



The thirst for power will consume us all.

I Am Fine

Desolate, abandoned, without a lifeline

The nightmares, the monsters all hold me in their thrall

I am fine

That feeling of failure, worthlessness, old friends of mine

A waste of space, a burden to all

Desolate, abandoned without a lifeline

I attack myself, my failures, mistakes, weakness, intertwined

These feelings poised to erupt as I shout at the wall

I am fine

So incredibly exhausted, so incredibly appalled

The longer I resist, the further I fall

Desolate, abandoned without a lifeline

Trapped in this never-ending trial that is mine

Cold and alone, my self-esteem dropping like leaves in fall

I am fine

The light is slowly failing to shine

I slowly approach his draconic lair, his maleficent hall

Desolate, abandoned and without a lifeline

I . . . I . . . I am fine

- By Akshat Jain

Liebesleid

My heart thumps

everytime

We’re all afraid

you know

to get up on stage



Maybe you’ll mess up

Maybe they’ll totally reject you

Even so,

you grit your teeth

and get up on stage anyway



There is

something that

compels us

moves us

to play music



Inviting long ago songs

into the modern air

Resurfacing stories

That others once wrote



Light glinting off dress shoes

as they squeak against

the polished wood floor

Coming to a stop in the center



All you can see is black

vague outlines of people

their faces framing your vision

like upturned flowers



Swinging up the violin

Like unsheathing a sword

The chinrest clamp digging into my collarbone

The pain distracts me



The fragile space

between the bow and the strings

remains

for only a moment



Breathing in the too cold air

bow gliding down the strings

the sharp, clear sound

echoes all around



The garden in front of me

seems to bloom

heads snapping upwards

trying to find the origin of the sound



Without music,

What would we be?

If you had never gotten up on stage,

How would you feel?



We live for that moment

sometimes only a second long

But the sweat and blood you put into the piece

finally shines through

the moment you become one

with the music



An unprecedented performance

one mishap after another

But none of it matters

as long as it can reach them

as long as they hear us

as long as we can play

In the hearts

of the people that have listened

And the people that will never forget





Because we’re musicians

Drip Drop

Drip Drop

Rain hits the roof above my head

As I listen to it,

I feel like I’m slowly drowning, suffocating



Drip Drop

With every drop hitting the pavement

The feeling inside me increases, making me feel

Like in a crowd of standing people, I’m the only one falling down



Everybody says that the rain will pass

Eventually it does

The rain stopped

With it the feeling stopped as well



I take in a big breath of air

Reveling in the feeling of just breathing

No longer feeling like I’m suffocating

But storms always come back



Drip Drop

I can’t escape it



It always comes back

Drowning me,

Suffocating me

With every scratch,

Every whisper



I break a little bit more.

-by Isabel Chapman

Real Problems

You’ve just got to stop,

And consider for a moment.

All the people,

Who are actually broken,

You’ve just got to pause,

And think for a second.

Of all the people,

Who are actually threatened.

You’ve just got to cease,

And see for an instant.

All the people,

Whose actual existence,

Is actually threatened.

Of all the people,

Who at mealtime,

Don’t even have a half a dime,

To pay for everything they need.

The things they require,

To live and breathe,

For more than the next 24 hours.

Of all the people,

Who have disabilities,

But don’t have the utilities,

To stop them being anorexic.

To help them learn,

Even though they’re dyslexic,

So they can grow up and be happy.

Of all the people,

Plagued by war.

Bodies that are washed ashore,

On beaches found on far off islands,

Where they were killed.

From the bombs in the highlands,

Where nobody has a chance to live.

And yet somehow,

We still manage,

To complain of our disadvantage.

How today we were just so tired,

So much homework,

Our food wasn’t cooked as required.

Even though we have everything.

by Heidi Foster

Beginning & End

Beginning took my hand, and led me to a door

It was not like the one, that I had seen before

He took out a key, handed it to me

“only you can begin & end your journey”.

Lock and key met, stepping into a new dimension

I tuned in my brain paying close attention

It’s only the start; much lies ahead

I must choose the ideal path to tread.

I looked behind, beginning was gone

Taking a deep breath, I moved on

I adapted to the rough terrain

joined by others, we persisted and gained!

There were times I sat on top of the world

sometimes buried beneath the earth

but my experiences molded me

I found hands to support & hold me.

Developed in every area of life

new dreams would allow me to thrive

today, end is not something i wish to see

but he is the one we all must greet.

“I will lead to the beginning again”, said he

I knew i’d have to follow, for I wouldn’t be winning

never hesitate to follow the beginning

never worry about being led by the end!

by Raniyah Basheer

At The Crossroads

At the crossroads

Who knew it would be hard

She didn't know it would be this hard

People thought she didn't know anything

She was sweating, crying, heart beating

What was she going to do

The words hurt hard and stuck like glue

Others said to stand up

They didn't know how it felt

The scars would never heal

Their reactions would sting

Like a songbird that could not sing

She was stuck at the crossroads

Forced to make a decision 

Forced by pressure

Yet they haven't understood 

No one has,

She sat there at the crossroads, saw fire on all sides

She couldn't escape, she knew what they would do

Others did not

They were her peers

She knew what they would do no matter what she did

Empty cars drove by like the shells of her former self

She didn't care what they said, she gave up

They said not to, but they did not know

They had never known

She felt blank 

Like all the trash had been cleansed off of her

She had given up

The tears left her face, like they always did

She sank into the cement, she couldn't handle it 

She couldn't stand it anymore

There she was, 

sinking, 

at the crossroads

Anonymous 

Unlucky

In the place where
people in white coats
hustle
saving lives
mending broken bones
or souls.

Shh, the doctor said, this won’t hurt a bit.
Where wheelchairs aren’t laughed at
and babies can breathe clean air.
We’re just unlucky, your sister said.

No one knows what’s ahead of us.

Inside the white rooms
with the silent hearts
and the monitors that go
beep-beep-beep
if you’re lucky
and
beeeeeeeeep
if you’re not.

And now I hear the static you used to be.

I’m so sorry.
I guess not
everyone
hits the lottery.

I couldn’t save you.

by Vedika Sanga

Changes

The view from my window is ever changing
The art of my life repainting
My heart beating at a different rhythm
Body breathing in a different pattern
Reflection shows a changed person
Adapting, adjusting, bearing burdens
Am I here, or is it someone unknown?
Am I veiled, hiding the human of old?

Changes are taking me to exquisite places
I am learning from experiences and changes
Making me cry or making me sing,
I am no longer the person I was before
Adjusting is the trait I once bore
Up, down, I’m spinning all around
Flying high, falling to the ground
I am alien to myself and others now.

The process is ending, now I am changed
I may differ, but I’m not strange
Now I am a dreamer who achieves
Now I am a believer who believes
No dual sides, just one human
Leaving shadows, turning towards the sun
Accept the modifications to life

For with changes, I will strive.

- Raniyah Basheer