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Thank you to everyone who participated, and congratulations to our talented and creative winners!

Trapped Colors By Caroline Gin, Sophomore- first place winner

This new beginning marked the end
At first, a blessing, I couldn’t comprehend
Mind, Body, Soul had been hanging by a thread
But there had to be blue before there was red

3 A.M. I peeled my orange
My eyes on the screen taking up all my moments
The bliss that I felt was really a door hinge
It gradually broke as the screws loosened

Yellow was the pineapple that had closed up my throat
Yellow was the yolk that popped unbeknownst
Yellow filled my dreams turned nightmares, now haunted
Yellow was the color of the joy that I wanted

My green walls collapsed as I complained and complained
Why world, Why me
This is a mistake
Pessimistic attitudes had always driven my life
This time it drove me into a stop sign

Blue miserable waves started to rage
Up and down but at least there was change
I bobbed my head up every few days
And I could see the sunlight’s welcoming rays

I put on a mask and reluctantly went on a walk
On the concrete, a purple flower drawn with chalk
Ten minutes turned into every Sunday each week
Even picked up a book on “How to Be a Better Me”

Red is the love and passion I found
Life is worth living, don’t let yourself down
Mistakes become wisdom, so give yourself grace
Admit your wrongdoings, don’t try to save face
Just love yourself, no matter the case
You don’t deserve a flower, You deserve a bouquet
Covid is just another phase
But strong and determined is what you’ll always display

Submission 7 Jasmine Saldano- Honorable Mention

it’s Opaque.

Everyone always Moved around
they Moved forward by looking from Behind,
Moving Backwards to Move forwards.

And still We would dream –
And still We would fear
And still We would sleep
But we do them Together,

Now we Move forwards while
Standing still,
like Cirrus who seem to Stay
Who Look down later
and moved Away

And still We dream –
And still We fear
And still We sleep
But now I see Quiet.

I sat on so Many chairs –
Quiet and,
Like benches and stools
sometimes just grass,
to Look up at the Sky

but I don’t know
If the Wind can break Cirrus.
or if Cirrus was Meant to be that way

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