Jordie Cornfield
Waring School
Grade 8
sleepy, gold cliches
You’re a tired cliche
A red rose or
A yellow sun
That’s dripping
In broken promises
And jumped-to
Conclusions.
You’re a love song
That belt-outs something like
‘You’re the only reason I wrote this song,
When you’re here, nothing’s wrong’
Something must be wrong, though
If the artist is depending on
Another person for
Their happiness and satisfaction.
Or a RomCom movie where
Girl likes boy, boy likes another girl
Who’s blonde or rich or both
And by the end of the movie,
Miraculously,
The original awkward girl who had
A make-over halfway
Through the movie
And the cool jock whose main goal in life
Is a basketball scholarship to UCLA
are together.
You’re a tired cliche
That I’m sick of hearing
On and on and on.
You’re the girl wearing pink
Or the boy wearing blue
You’re everything everyone hates
But they don’t know anything else.
Their heads too small,
Or their pants too tight
Somehow the oxygen
Can’t reach the part of their
Brain that’s groping for the button
That tells them to
Run, run, run.
But my head is the right size
And my dress is floral and pretty.
So I can see
That you’re a tired cliche
You’re a diamond in the rough
Or something weird like that.
It’s a small world,
So many people like you.
Ah, to be young and foolish
That’s a cliche too.
It’s kind of sad
But,
Only if you’re old,
An old soul, you’d know
All that glitters is not gold.
Elizabeth Patrick
Waring School
Grade 12
Oranges
At christmas time the box arrives,
same as last year same as next.
The cheap wood, with one dimensional colors;
Orange and Green. Together, simple depictions of
“Florida’s Freshest.” Telling us what we already know.
The box alerts me to my carelessness,
Reminds me of my grandmother, far away.
She thinks of me frequently,
I think of her many fewer days.
When we rip open the box my siblings and I,
Some green paper strips fall to the floor.
They fight over strawberry candy, scarce in fake grass packaging.
An Orange is enough for me.
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