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CREATIVE WRITING COMPETITION
2022
´HIDDEN BEAUTY´
Winners:
Category - poetry
First prize – Laura Mária Zlacká, sexta; Ivana Vaškovičová, 3.AG
Second prize – Karol Dutkovský, 3.AG
Third prize – Ján Bačišin, oktáva
Category – essay
First prize – Katarína Šarišská, oktáva
Category - poetry
First prize – Laura Mária Zlacká, sexta; Ivana Vaškovičová, 3.AG
Second prize – Karol Dutkovský, 3.AG
Third prize – Ján Bačišin, oktáva
Category – essay
First prize – Katarína Šarišská, oktáva
Ivana Vaškovičová
Hidden beauty
It's useless for me to seek,
something that lasts a week.
Why would I search for shallow water,
that drains as soon as it gets hotter?
Not only duration is weak...
I must have been a freak,
if I'd fallen for a perfect guy,
who has lust in his eye.
Real things are often hidden...
Self-confidence isn't forbidden,
so don't be shy to spread real beauty.
Just avoid becoming snooty.
Remember to be kind in every case
to shine by magnificent grace.
Hidden beauty
It's useless for me to seek,
something that lasts a week.
Why would I search for shallow water,
that drains as soon as it gets hotter?
Not only duration is weak...
I must have been a freak,
if I'd fallen for a perfect guy,
who has lust in his eye.
Real things are often hidden...
Self-confidence isn't forbidden,
so don't be shy to spread real beauty.
Just avoid becoming snooty.
Remember to be kind in every case
to shine by magnificent grace.
Laura Mária Zlacká
Hidden beauty
(Shorter version)
With every stroke of a brush,
he disappears into the canvas,
like I am painting
a memory I have never lived.
But these moments are dead.
When I think about him
I think about all the times
that the pain just suddenly went away.
I think about all the times that
a laugh was the furthest thing.
Suffering in silence
picturing it all in your head wishing
it would all come back.
He was the beauty hidden
in every storm of mine.
Hidden beauty
(Shorter version)
With every stroke of a brush,
he disappears into the canvas,
like I am painting
a memory I have never lived.
But these moments are dead.
When I think about him
I think about all the times
that the pain just suddenly went away.
I think about all the times that
a laugh was the furthest thing.
Suffering in silence
picturing it all in your head wishing
it would all come back.
He was the beauty hidden
in every storm of mine.