I am Poem

I am always looking for a new adventure

I wonder how my future will turn out

I hear music like a memento

I see happiness and kindness as medicine for the soul

I want to go shopping

I am ready to start life after highschool

I pretend to not be so negative so that I am more positive 

I feel excited to have a fun summer with friends

I worry about how life will be after my seniors graduate

I cry thinking about how my seniors are leaving me

I am excited to be a senior and graduate

I understand that I need to take every opportunity presented

I say I love you to people closest to me

I dream about the life I will work to have

I try to be positive 

I hope to be happy with my future

I am Abby

I am Poem

This poem is very important to me because I talk about everything I hold dear to my heart. I talk about my real worries and concerns in this poem so it's more personal. I think this poem really resonates with me and my personality. Hearing music like a memento means that different songs bring me back to certain memories and fills me with nostalgia. I like the feeling of nostalgia but it also makes me sad, I'm excited to create even more memories with my friends, especially those who are seniors.

Bio Poem

Abby

Bold as a lightning strike, independent, organized, and direct, yet warm as summer sunlight 

A friend to all, her laughter dancing through the air 

A lover of laughter, food, and memories that sparkle like stars 

Who needs naps that wrap her in a cloud of calm, iced Starbucks, and a shopping spree that feels like a whirlwind of joy

Who gives advice that guides like a compass, laughter that echoes, and love that stretches endlessly.

Who fears shadows of the dark, spiders creeping silently, and drama that storms like thunder 

Who dreams of Hawaii' s crystal waters calling her name, 

Italy’s history whispering through time, and Alaska’s beauty, wild and whispering winds 

A resident of Santee, California

Flores

Bio Poem; A  Glimpse of Me

By using words and characteristics provided by the people around me, I built this poem mostly on how people view me. The words provided were independent, organized and direct. I think these words perfectly describe me because I like to be a prime example of these characteristics. I included things that make me happy and things I want to experience 

"Cold Nights, Warm Hearts" 

The twinkling lights through the town were bright

My breath before me, then gone, fog hanging like coats

I look up

His calming voice ringing through my ears like a tiny bell

I took his hand and let him through the cold winter night

Cars hissing past

He touches my shoulder

I anxiously touch the nickel in my pocket. 

Calmness flows through me

Any uncertainty is gone, I released it

At dawn in October, the crowd rushed like a rising tide toward the gates.

At dawn in October, drums went boom, boom through the trembling windows.

At dawn in October, the palace stood a fragile crown of marble.

At dawn in October, the doors shuddered in fear beneath angry fists.

At dawn in October, the air burned with anger, sweat, and smoke.

At dawn in October, a deafening silence fell before the first cry.

At dawn in October, the queen appeared pale as winter 

At dawn in October, the fawn watched with endless, unblinking eyes above.

At dawn in October, wild voices roared and rattled the iron gates.

At dawn in October, the secret halls held fear and powerlessness. 

Limitation Poem: March on Versailles

At dawn in October, the guards stood frozen statues of death.

At dawn in October, the wind carried whispers of justice through the halls.

At dawn in October, hunger howled like a starved lion in the crowd.

At dawn in October, the dauphin fell in slow, sorrowful silence.

At dawn in October, the gates called out a long, breaking cry.

At dawn in October, footsteps echoed endlessly, endlessly across marble.

At dawn in October, the throne became a crumbling illusion of power.

At dawn in October, death flickered like a roaring flame in royal eyes.

At dawn in October, the moment stretched into eternal unrest.

At dawn in October, history made its mark in a haunted, crimson memory.