PLURALIST COVER WINNER--SOPHIA SIMONE
POETRY SENIOR GLOSA 2ND PLACE
The Girl Who Could Change the World
“She screams in silence
A sullen riot penetrating through her mind,
Waiting for a sign
To smash the silence with a brick of self control”
- Billie Joe Armstrong
She’ll barrel though your life like
A barely contained tornado
Changing everything you think you know and
Replacing it with new lessons and stories and memories.
She’s a big, happy smile and wide, excited eyes,
Flailing limbs and peals of laughter.
She’s a special kind of person
The kind of could change the world.
She revels in chaos and
She screams in silence.
Sometimes if you’re lucky
You’ll get to witness a miracle.
She’ll stop mid-breath and then
Suddenly she’s still and silent and calm.
Suddenly there is peace amongst the chaos.
There’s an idea brewing in her mind.
She’ll think so hard you’ll think you can hear it
And you’ll think you can see the gears turning behind her eyes.
You’ll be able to pinpoint the exact moment it comes to her like
A sullen riot penetrating through her mind.
She’s a special kind of person
Who believes in the power of herself.
She won’t wait for someone else to fix her problems
And once she gets something in her head
There is no changing her mind.
She’s as stubborn as a mule,
And she’s decidedly on Team Free Will.
She’ll never ask for help
And you’ll never see her
Waiting for a sign.
And it’s during these scary-calm moments
Just before they pass
That you realize how special she really is.
That she’s the type of girl who could change the world
If only she sat still long enough to try.
If she stayed a little longer
In that place where ideas are born,
This girl could move mountains
All she’d need to do would be
To smash the silence with a brick of self control.
POETRY JUNIOR EKPHRASTIC 3RD PLACE
Equality and Education
With one step outside our doors, we are silenced.
The outcry of the public drowns out the sounds of the real world.
As we walk, we are pelted with racial slurs and snide comments,
Punishing us for the body we are born into.
They speak but don’t see.
The only thing that matters to them is the colour of our skin.
Their words rumble through our minds,
Loud, like waves crashing against the shore amidst a storm.
With every step we take, the voices become more powerful and louder.
Our pride diminishes, our accomplishments unnoticed.
They try to bring us down, and make us feel like less than human.
We are trapped, with no way out,
Surrounded and outnumbered, we trudge forward.
To them, today is just another day in their privileged lives,
To us, this day is a progression in history.
With education and determination, together we will go far in life.
We will not let anybody stand in our way.
We may be frightened, frustrated and outraged,
But behind our frowns is a sense of courage.
Heads held high and books in our hands,
We push forward, breaking an unbroken barrier.
This is the beginning of an ending.
POETRY JUNIOR GLOSA--FIRST PLACE
All I can say is pain like that is fast and it’s rare
And oh you got so much going for you, going right
But I know at 17 it’s hard to see past Friday night
She wasn’t right for you
“Letter To Me” by Brad Paisley
Looking back I can’t remember
The last time I felt that way.
Someone was standing on my chest.
I wasn’t sure if it was tolerable.
I cried myself to sleep
for days, and weeks, and months.
Yet I smiled through the feeling
of hate and misery.
And looking back on it now,
All I can say is pain like that is fast and it’s rare.
I used to get upset
over silly little things.
It felt like the end of the world.
It felt like nothing would get better.
Overthinking my existence.
What’s the meaning of life?
My mother used to look at me
and smile with her heart.
She would tell me I was pretty.
And oh you got so much going for you, going right.
Basketball games kept me tired.
Homework had me up all night.
Juggling gets hard
when your hands become too full.
It’s difficult to multitask,
choose between friends and work.
My parents were strict about marks,
worried about my future.
Life was so demanding then.
But I know at 17 it’s hard to see past Friday night.
The struggle to look perfect,
the fight to fit in.
In high school you’re not popular
if you are not like everyone else.
Behind the makeup and clear skin
the real me was inside,
hiding behind my mascara smeared eyes.
That girl wasn’t me,
She was someone else and
She wasn’t right for you.