Braeden Hughes

Savvy

By Braeden Hughes
Westford School, Grade 8

her mind is
occupied
by her book
exploring
faraway
lands,
a desert
island with
water so
blue it looks
painted on,
a forest,
trees so tall
they seem to
puncture the
clouds above
rolling hills
grass rippling
like coastal
sea water,
waving with
the moon
she is so
enraptured,
time flies by,
all too soon
the voice of
duty calls
her away

A Winter Morning

By Braeden Hughes
Westford School, Grade 8

the frosted
white tree limbs,
morning sun
slicing by,
a rainbow
of color

your love is the sun
on a winter day
weak and pale
with chilling rays
you say you love me
you say you care
but why have you left me
standing there
sad and lonely
no place to run
why have you left me
shivering
in the
sun

While the wind turns pages of rain
she sits by the fire in a cozy nook
reading someone else's sorrow and pain
turning pages of a luring book
feeling agony of the slain,
but somehow detached
taking a faraway look
separated by a pane
made not of glass,
but promises mistook

She confuses me.
Sometimes she is nice and kind,
other times she drives me out of my mind.
I've wanted to be her friend before,
I've wanted to pound her into the floor.
She occupies my mind at night,
my fists aching for a fight
and then I realize,
the person I despise,
is right here inside me.

so caught up in society,
acting the girl that you want to be
hiding your true personality
with a flimsy shield of conformity
dress, talk, and think like other girls
your shallowness makes me want to hurl
why not just live YOUR life,
without others' opinions pressing like a knife
be quirky, go nuts
being yourself takes guts
show me what you can do,
without your clique,
who are you?

Your hurting, aren't you?

you hold a grudge against her

because of her feelings for him

she's sorry.

Your angry and sad, frustrated.

I understand,

but sometimes you have to let go

Now instead of just yourself

your hurting her

she wants to be friends

but your anger stands in the way

Let go.

quiet footsteps in the glade
across the brook, in the shade
midnight moon, full and round
the trees whisper, a soothing sound
from the velvet of the night,
a fair maiden flits into the light
willow slender, light and quick
shining hair, long and thick
free for now, but it will not last
her time is up, it's fading fast
clouds shift, the moon is gone
smooth and graceful, like a swan
the maiden is no longer there,
seemingly vanished into thin air
until this day, one month hence
she will not return with confidence
in this quiet, moonlight glade
her chaotic life she can evade
seeking happiness and peace
she comes to the silver glade