My Poems

My Poems

Money Money is a bloodbath ground covered in red. You fight and fight till you can’t anymore. Money is a never ending race to the end. You run and start to get tired but, you never have have enough energy to finish. Money is an inescapable prison. You can bang on the walls but nothing will happen. Money is a black hole sucking you in. Maybe you’ll scream for help but, even if someone hears they wont care.

Vancouver As cold as the snow As silent as a cat As rainy as Niagara Falls As sick as a rat As green as a tree As free as dice As big as Butchart gardens As nice as sugar and spice In autumn there’s a chill, in summer it’s hot In spring flowers bloom, in winter they cannot

Yellow, the colour of happiness. Green, the colour of family. I’m crawling along the suspension bridge, terrified and not wanting to look down But can’t stop myself 	I freeze with fear looking over the edge Suddenly a bunch of roses and honeysuckle come shooting out of the ground They cradle me in their petals. They bring me down to the ground, away from the bridge Surrounding me on forest floor was a bunch of spiders. 	I wasn’t afraid of them, they weren’t attacking me. I decided to ignore them if they don’t hurt me then I won’t hurt them either The forest floor was squishy and a little damp It smelt like rain and fresh cut grass It also still smelt a little like the honey suckle and roses that laid around me 	everything was green, I saw some yellow, purple and blue flowers starting to bloom I got up and started to walk around the forest I was in I walked by tons of animals my favourite was, The small kitten and its mother I stopped to pet it 	It was soft and fluffy and purred when I pet it Then the mother left to go find food I was honoured she trusted me so much with her kitten So I stayed until the mother came back Once she came back I decided it was time for me to go home. 	Just like when I was taken off the bridge The honeysuckle and roses lifted me back to the solid ground next to the bridge. I went back to my yellow and green house.

Social Battery A soft melodious melody plays. It doesn’t ever stop, It changes, and starts to honk and hiss. Then it laughs loud, alive and happy. It feels like acid burning my throat. I want to be a part of that. 	 	I can’t though. I’m trapped in an invisible cell, No one can see it but me. A clear, invisible force that you can only see from the inside. It looks like a black hole, glossy and glowing yet dim and dirty. I try to escape but as soon as I touch it I recoil back with a searing hot hand. I don’t try to escape anymore. 	 	Eventually the walls fall. But no one knew they were there in the first place so, they don’t exist. The air is nicer outside the walls. Less of an overpowering old smell. It feels lighter. All the colours are so vibrant and nice. I stand next to those melodious voices from before. They leave, 	 	Then come back the more time I spend with them the dimmer the colours get

The Stage I enter the stage. Walking in the dark quiet. The stage collapses.

Struggle The world is not flat. Maybe one day it will be. It might just give up.

Lonely Loneliness is hard. It hits and hits till it can’t. It hits till you break.

The Book Bash Flutter Flutter Swish Swish Flutter Swish Flutter Swish Ding Ding Ding Ping Ping Crunch Crunch Tear Tear Crunch Teeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaar Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!!!!! Boo hoo boo hoo Hissssssssssss hissss hiss hissssssssssss! PLOD PLOD PLOD PLOd PLod Plod plod Hum hum hummmmmm hum hum hummmmmmm Tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap ding! Flutter flutter flutter ch ch ch flutter ch ch flutter flutter

<a href="https://youtu.be/cWovm1caokk">My About Me Video</a>

Hi, my name’s Sydney and I’m a PLP student in grade 8. I love to write and read poetry, well I love to read in general. 

<a href="https://www.blog44.ca/sydneyh/">My Learning Portfolio (Blog)</a>

I only recently found my love for poetry. I’ve loved this project it’s been so fun to do especially since I just recently found my love for poetry. I think my favorite style of poetry that we’ve done so far has been the Imagery poem. I found that I really liked describing different things. I feel like this project has gone by so fast and I’m really excited to do the coffee house performance. This project has been right up my alley I think this might have been my favorite project I’ve done so far this year.

One I&apos;ve been locked up for 264 days. I have nothing but a small notebook and a broken pen and the numbers in my head to keep me company. 1 window. 4 walls. 144 square feet of space. 26 letters in an alphabet I haven&apos;t spoken in 264 days of isolation. 6,336 hours since I&apos;ve touched another human being. (Excerpt from p.1 of shatter me by Tahereh Mafi) My poem Locked up for 264 days A small notebook, a broken pen, numbers 1 window, 4 walls, 144 square feet 6,336 hours since I touched another human being

My Worldview Worldview stomps through the door. Beaming with boredom. Looking with blue eyes at what it’s created. Wearing my hobbies and interests. It listens to the rain dripping contently on the ground. I hear nothing but, it does. It listen’s to the sound I presume is there. It starts walking around circling me with loud and heavy steps, It gets closer and closer, it smells like ash and dirt. I flinch at the smell it steps away and the smell starts to change But. that’s ridiculous, Worldview doesn’t change. It’s blue eyes always the same. Yet, somehow today it did.

The First Day of High School Walking the halls looking at all the numbers on the doors. Check my schedule. The walls are a continuous vertical brick that encloses me. The TVs have eyes that are always watching me. Why is everything so big? Why am I so small? What do I do at lunch? Riiiiiiiiiing! The loud bell screamed. Now I have too find the way to my next class. Check my schedule. Asking a question is a rollercoaster at its peak. Each desk is different than the next, one is smooth and slick. Then the next is dull and dusty. Riiiiiing. It’s time to go home. The air smells thick and polluted with gas and oil. The bus comes. I get on. I’ll be ok.

Name

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