The power of words

Students in our crisis & assessment centers shared their poetry with us.

Each piece was an achievement of skill and self-reflection, but we could pick only 3 winners. Here they are –

 

Untitled – by DJ, age 14

The air is crisp, the sky a bruised plum gray,

And I have work to finish while I can,

Before the light decides to slip away

And leave the world to shadows and to man.

The stone wall at the pasture’s edge has leaned,

Tired of holding back the rising brush

What once was straight is now a bit careened,

Lost in the evening’s cold and sudden hush.

I stop to lift a granite piece back home,

To mend the line that time and frost have torn.

It’s heavy work to fix the frozen loam,

With fingers stiff and spirits feeling worn.

My neighbor says the wall is just a ghost,

A boundary for a field no longer there.

But I believe we need the lines the most

When everything is dissolving into air.

I’ll stay a while until the task is done,

Between the coming dark and setting sun.

 

Game of Life – by Harmonie, age 16

Life is a gamble, it’s just up to you

What steps to take, be careful though

Because you might stumble across your fate

Life is like a never-ending race

And I can’t seem to take second place

So, I keep a steady pace

And work on my head space

I strive for perfection

Because in life, I’ve learned a lot of lessons

But I look at those as blessings

And I thank God for the second chances

Because ever since an adolescent

Life hasn’t always been pleasant

I’ve rolled the dice

Most times I roll a lucky seven

Other times it’s been snake eyes

But every day I wake up

I’m blessed for another chance to see the light

So, I keep betting on myself

To get to the finish line

And I know I’ve made mistakes

With and without intention

But I’m glad it didn’t turn out in a waste

I’m moving differently now

Grateful for redemption

And that I’m still living in a world so different

 

Melodies – by Julian, age 14

Listen to how the door opens and clicks.

The click it makes turns into a melody.

A melody that you have never heard before.

The melody that is playing is only played out of your head.

You eventually walk away from that door.

But you realize that the melody is still playing.

It follows softly behind your steps,

curling through the silence like a whisper.

Each note clings tighter than the last,

as if it knows you better than you do.

You stop –

but it does not.

The tune grows louder in the stillness,

pressing gently against your thoughts,

until you can’t remember

if it began with the door …

or with you.