The Hateful Part

By: Olivia Griffin

There are many problems with this world,
From A to Z.
Some people don’t even know how hurtful it can be
When a man insults a woman
When a black person is shot.

Nobody realizes it can affect many people
We have differences the world cannot stand.
But I don’t get why we hurt each other. I don’t understand.
Thank God, most of these things don’t happen in Washington,

Heard about or not.

“You look fat in that dress!”
“She’s so ugly cuz she’s black.”
“If she’s Muslim, she must be a terrorist.”

Sometimes, I’m ashamed to be an American.
Sometimes, I wish that I wasn’t called a ghetto,

And the other people around me weren’t.
I’m sick and tired of it, and I want it to stop.

But it won’t.


To judge us for our skin color,
Or our sexual orientation,
For our communication,
For our transportation,
That we are white Becky’s and black Monique’s.

They tell us to get a life.
They tell us to go back to our country.
They tell us that we are unimportant,
That we are ignorant.

We are more than that.

We are in unison in our unique ways.


Olivia Griffin is 12 years old and is from Renton, Washington State, USA


By: Meira Colton

I was a little girl,
Just in first grade,
In a small town in Virginia.
She was my best friend.
She was the thing that made me happy when I was sad,
Who would sit in my lap when I threw a tantrum.
But she had to go sometime.
She died at 12,
When the time was right,
A couple months before our move across the country.
She was old, but playful; she was the perfect match.

We cried in the dark, using boxes of tissues,
All for you, all 'cause we missed you.
The tears where rushing down my face, sniffling every ten seconds.
Every time I see your picture I think about the good days.
You passed so peacefully.
We hoped you were just tired,
But we knew that you were gone.
Although gone, you are always in my heart.
At the sight of any Vizsla I go and pet them.
I will always be Vizsla-crazy, all because of you.
I love you, and I will always love you.


Meira Colton is 12 years old and is from Seattle, WA, United States


By: Agnes Garrett

Soulmates are a tricky thing.
Whether platonic or romantic
everyone seems to have one.

A common trope, appealing to old
and young alike.
An idea that the stars, maybe the universe,

Created someone for you.
With souls intertwined, like vines on a lampost,

Your soulmate
Is fated to belong to you,
your own perfect match.

But you may never meet.
Star-crossed lovers may never meet,
a cruel joke.

A soulmate who was made for you,
but nothing was said about being together.

Their identity, unbeknownst to you.
like person meets person and your heart knows.

It could be the boy in the record store with
cuffed jeans and scuffed sneakers,
hair reaching his shoulders.

It could be the girl working in the bookstore,
surrounded by the smell of dust and old paper.

Could have been an old crush,
one you hoped to be something more.
It was just wishful thinking.

Maybe you’re one of the few that get lucky.
Meeting the one, and you two just fit perfectly.

Maybe you’re one of the unlucky ones,
crushed by the feeling that the one you wanted
didn’t belong to you.

Wanting to scream, “I defy you stars!”
Á la Leonardo DiCaprio in Romeo and Juliet, shaking your fist
to the sky.

You long to have a roadmap,
of who you are going to be with,
of the person who comes once in a lifetime.

In your lifetime.


Agnes Garrett is 17 years old; she lives in Richmond, Texas.  Some fun facts about her are -- she loves the show, "Parks and Recreation," and she speaks French.