I want to tell you how I feel, 
but courage is hard to find. 

Like a music box, 
my heart starts to wind. 

It plays a unique tune. 
A sound of both of us combined. 

A noise so beautiful, 
just like I designed. 

I miss you, us. 
The way your blue eyes shined. 

If the only color I see is you, 
does that count as being colorblind? 

I would love if our hands were together 
and our fingers were intertwined. 

Twisty vines grow with our souls 
until the vines are cut and left behind. 

The painter is motivated, but sad. 
On a canvas, a tragic face is outlined. 

The artist is finished. 
In the corner, my initials are signed. 

A hurtful self portrait. 
The more I stare, the more it’s defined. 

I’m so tired. 
I lay down to unwind. 

I’m sorry, 
you’re too kind. 

I’ll leave now, 
I hope you don’t mind. 

I was going to tell you something,
but nevermind.

--Zay V., 6th-8th Grade