WRITER'S GUILD ALL SCHOOL
        POETRY CONTEST WINNERS



        People's Choice Awards
        1st Place: What Makes A Person Beautiful - by Emily Ward
        2nd Place: Thank You - by Emily Ward
        3rd Place - An Open Door - by Dan Crislip

        Judge's Choice Awards
        1st Place: What Love Is? - by Emily Ward
        2nd Place: What Makes a Person Beautiful - by Emily Ward
        3rd Place: If Only... - by Aaron Hash
        4th Place: Pity - by Melissa Garland
        4th Place: A Parting Gift - by Aaron Hash






        WHAT MAKES A PERSON BEAUTIFUL?

        By Emily Ward


          Who decided what's beautiful and what's not? Who
          decided that I wasn't beautiful? Maybe it was me, maybe
          it was you. Today, I was mistaken for someone who is
          beautiful. I was tapped. I turned to meet my admirer, and
          a look of disgust crossed his face as the words, "I thought
          you were someone else" crossed his lips. Why is it that
          when I'm tapped, it's by mistake. It was just a tap,
          a single-finger touch but it meant that I was beautiful,
          for a split second I was actually beautiful.
          He is who decides what is beautiful.

          My soul and heart, though not wrapped in such elegant
          packages as others, are beautiful. My mind and thoughts
          are beautiful. All I need now is someone who can tap
          on my inside and find my true beauty. Some say that
          beauty is in the eye of the beholder, but if nobody
          thinks I'm beautiful, then where do I stand.

          Alone,
          I would imagine

          Alone with the millions of other people who weren't tapped.

          THANK YOU

          by Emily Ward


          You make me think so many things
          That my brain aches, as well as my heart.
          I hang on your every word and
          You've made me feel things, I never thought possible.
          Everything is mis-shapen now
          Thanks to your emotion.
          And yet I wouldn't take any of it back
          Even though back is probably where it belongs.
          To risk loving is to risk not being loved in return.
          You make me feel so whole
          And so scattered.
          All I can do is think of words that don't even make
          Sense together.
          But then neither do we.
          Thank you for giving me your love
          and breathing new life into me again.



          AN OPEN DOOR

          by Dan Crislip


          She left the door open,
          while leaving the room.
          A small, drafty place,
          In the corner a broom.
          No pictures, no windows,
          No paintings, walls bare.
          Not much for furniture,
          A table, a chair

          But one thing remained,
          An item forgot.
          A small silver ring
          Left on the table top.
          The light flashed upon it.
          It glimmered and shone
          A muscial pattern
          Of a song now unknown.

          The ring was alone
          In this simple, small room
          With the table and chair,
          And even the broom.
          The light soon went out.
          The draft blew the door closed.
          This cold, drafty room,
          was dark and soon froze.



          WHAT LOVE IS?

          by Emily Ward

          I have this preconceived notion of what love is...

          Some unrealishtically handsome stranger sweeps me off my feet.
          He takes me to some vacant prt of a desolate beach,
          Where the white foam of the waves hits the rocks
          In the curiously familiar melody of a famous love tune.
          He runs his perfect hands through my hair and holds the moment with his eyes,
          Until I am fully prepared to fall head over heels
          As his lips touch mine for the first time.

          That is what I know of love.

          But, unfortunately my reality seems to differ a bit from that of my fantasies.
          No handsome strangers have recently crossed by path,
          The dreams of beaches and waves have slowly died off,
          And the only music I hear is that of my alarm clock
          Bring me back to my constant reality.
          It's too bad that this kind of love only exists in my dreams...

          (and on TV)



          IF ONLY . . .

          by Aaron Hash

          confusion
          lost
          swirling in madness
          I used to know
          where I stood
          now I don't even know
          which way is up
          if this were only
          a dream
          or a game
          or a book
          I'd know just what to do
          but this is reality
          where love doesn't triumph over all
          and it doesn't matter
          who I try and please
          for in the end
          no one not even me
          can tell my heart
          what to do
          it will act as it will
          as it always has
          and high above me
          I hear a cackle
          as fate smiles her
          wicked smile of madness
          down upon me and
          demands to know
          with a glance
          who will it be
          confusion
          lost
          tumbling in madness



          PITY

          by Melissa Garland

          Although she holds
          her head proud and wipes
          the tears from her cheeks,
          her sorrow burrows
          inside my soul
          like a pagan ritual
          of sacrifice.
          I cannot escape
          her tremors.
          Her arms wrap
          around my body.
          Her pain is infinite.
          Neverending
          Pity is written on the faces
          of mindless strangers
          as they watch me in my grief.



          A PARTING GIFT

          by Aaron Hash

          too tired to turn
          it off the radio
          continues to
          crank out music
          incessantly long
          after you have
          gone but your
          memory and
          scent still
          linger here your
          welcoming warmth
          remains to comfort
          me aching and
          alone except for
          my dreams



          PEER PRESSURE

          by Emily's Mom

          Submit to
          pressure from peers
          and you move down
          to their level.

          Speak up
          for your own
          beliefs
          and you invite
          them up to your
          level.

          If you move
          with the crowd,
          you'll get
          no further than
          the crowd.

          When 40 million
          people believe in
          a dumb idea,
          It's still a
          dumb idea.

          Simply swimming
          with the tide
          leaves you
          no where.

          So if you
          believe in
          something
          that's good,
          honest and bright,
          Stand up for it.

          THE FACT OF THE MATTER (aka NATHAN)

          by Emily Ward

          I'm trying as hard as I possibly can
          Not to fall deeper than the length of my thumb,
          But the fact of the matter
          Is that you aren't making it that easy.

          I would like to keep myself out of
          This oasis of sentimentality & feeling,
          But the fact of the matter,
          Is that you are making it too hard.

          Most of the time I sit around dwelling
          On the coulda's, woulda's, shoulda's,
          But the fact of the matter,
          Is that you told me to do and say what I want to.

          I wish I could say that it was of my
          Own accord in which I feel so shallowly for you,
          (I say shallowly because you have forbidden depth).
          But the fact of the matter,
          Is that you made me want you.

          I would like to stay on this deadly up & down,
          Never know where it's gonna take you,
          Make you scream at the top of your lungs,
          Roller coaster of a ride,
          But the fact of the matter,

          Is

          That you aren't worth it.

          DEATH OF AN INNOCENT

          Author Unknown

          I went to a party, Mom, I remembered what you said.
          You told me not to drink, Mom, so I drank soda instead.
          I really felt proud inside, Mom, the way you said I would.
          I didn't drink and drive, Mom, even though the others said I should.
          I know I did the right thing, Mom, I know you are always right.
          Now the party is finally ending, Mom, as everyone is driving out of sight.
          As I got into my car, Mom, I knew I'd get home in one piece.
          Because of the way you raised me, so responsible and sweet.

          I started to drive away, Mom, but as I pulled out into the road,
          the other car didn't see me, Mom, and hit me like a load.
          As I lay there on the pavement, Mom, I hear the policeman say,
          the other guy is drunk, Mom, and now I'm the one who will pay.
          I'm lying here dying, Mom. I wish you'd get here soon.
          How could this happen to me, Mom? My life just burst like a balloon.

          There is blood all around me, Mom, and most of it is mine.
          I hear the medic say, Mom, I'll die in a short time.
          I just wanted to tell you, Mom, I swear I didn't drink.
          It was the others, Mom. The others didn't think.
          He was probably at the same party as I.
          The only difference is, he drank and I will die.

          Why do people drink, Mom? It can ruin your whole life.
          I'm feeling sharp pains now. Pains just like a knife.
          The guy who hit me is walking, Mom, and I don't think it's fair.
          I'm lying here dying and all he can do is stare.

          Tell my brother not to cry, Mom. Tell Daddy to be brave.
          And when I go to heaven, Mom, put "Daddy's Girl" on my grave.
          Someone should have told him, Mom, not to drink and drive.
          If only they had told him, Mom, I would still be alive.
          My breath is getting shorter, Mom. I'm becoming very scared.
          Please don't cry for me, Mom. When I needed you, you were always there.

          I have one last question, Mom, before I say good bye.
          I didn't drink and drive, so why am I the one to die?


          warDead

          by Benjamin Preston

          a wise man once said,"
          look at your young men fighting,
          look at your women crying,
          look again at your young men
          can't you see them dying?"
          Well, can't you just see them dead?
          a little boy once said,"
          is this the way it must be?,
          is there noone left who can see?,
          why will noone listen
          why pretend that you can't hear me?"
          Why pretend that your minds are dead?

          excuse me. doesn't somebody here care?
          why won't you talk of the blank stares?
          of the pain on their faces?
          of the absence of life?the numbing spaces?
          did you believe it was for peace?for truth?
          did you believe it when they lied to you?
          I thought so.



          Somewhere beaUtiful your voice lies


          by Benjamin Preston

          Somewhere beautiful your voice lies;
          somewhere deep inside my mind. Eyes
          are oceans but penetrating realize
          that you need not talk, no, not a word.
          I can read your soul, rest assured.



          This page hosted by GeoCities Get your own Free Home Page