2023 Winners | The America Library of Poetry

2024 Student Poetry Contest
Division Winners

Division I
(grades 3-5)

Dear Future Self
by Bernadette Donovan

Dear Future Self,
Do you remember when you still went to school?
When you were proud?
When you felt warmth from our mother?
When you were not afraid of anything?
When you loved mac n cheese?
I have been thinking about my future a lot lately.
Please don't let my life change,
I love the way it is.
May I ask one more question?
Can my life stay on this path forever?
This is not just for me right now
It is for both of us future and past.
From, the little girl you used to know

Listen
by Iris Galicia

There is a place that I hold close to my heart
A place where the sun shines down on the hills
And if I observe closely, I can hear the earth
The wind whispers into my ear
As if to say, Welcome
Everything speaks its own language
So listen and you will hear their songs
The music of the birds
And the swift moving creek
Even the leaves speak
The song of Mother Earth
A sound so vibrant I feel powerful
As if I am here for a reason
I feel like screaming out in joy, in pain
And trees sway, inviting me into their arms
I am rooted to the ground, yet floating high above my world
The world is always screaming; you just need to listen
I belong here
I am listening
I am free

Madame Sea
by Ian Garrido

Madame Sea,
Swallow me whole.
Take me away
From this life.
Nothing left in this world;
Nothing but you, nothing but me.
Send me above to the shining night's sky.
Mercifully quick as you are.
Let me be with the one you took.
The one you keep within you.
Madame Sea,
My life is yours to own.

Division II
(grades 6-7)

Repeated Steps
by Natalie Parchment

The stage has worn down from repeated steps
The audience is no longer amazed
The applause that was once a standing ovation
Is now nothing but a scattered clap or two
The performance
And the performer
Haven't changed
But the audience has
The best is now expected
Late audience members may shuffle their way in every once in awhile
They may sit there
Chirp and clap
But once they have seen it before
It is destined to become an old act
Something predicted
Something repetitive
And the performer knows
The audience has worn down from repeated steps

Pictures
by Keyanna Crissman

My house is full of pictures.
Ones of sunny fields and blue skies,
with smiling faces and crooked teeth.
These pictures capture the moment's charm perfectly,
an eternal, everlasting memory.
I've seen the people in these pictures now,
and they are not the same.
They have longer hair and straighter teeth,
but something else has changed.
Their faces no longer have their color,
the light no longer lingers in their eyes.
Their joy they spread like confetti
is nowhere to be found.
Sometimes I wonder
if they are the same people in the pictures.
But still, I love them the same,
because I changed just like them.

Nature's Symphony
by Rachel Burgess

See me in her.
Blood of the roots spill
Greenery climbs the earth slowly
Earth endures through time
The breeze is a blanket
The earth is a mattress
And I lay to rest
I frolic through the fields
Until my feet are sore
Daisies and daffodils trail across the land
Sea crashes into earth
Grains of sand are like stardust
A piece of a nebula
And somewhere out in the night sky
Is a star shining bright
Just like you.

Division III
(grades 8-9)

My Grandmother
by Khadija Bellarhrib

The little girl in strawberry-stained clothes
A mess from the fruits her grandfather bought from the Saturday market
Walking carefully across the sandy but slippery tile floors outside
Squinting under the hot African sun
Clutching the two Dirhams between her small fingers
That her loving grandmother gifted her
"Go buy a snack for yourself." She smiled. "Just be careful."
Between the wrinkles, callouses, and scars that tell us apart
I see her reflection in my eyes
I feel what she is going through
When I am not there

When an Angel Sins
by Cole Ingram

When an angel sins,
they don't fall immediately.
It's gradual,
wings rotting and halo cracking.
A meteor shower as their halo shatters,
covering the stars,
gifting the world with the last of their purity.
Their feathers fall out,
akin to someone with a disease.
Because that's what sin is.
Each feather that falls hurts more than the last,
a cruel punishment.
When an angel sins,
they don't fall immediately.
It's gradual,
because it hurts more that way.
A righteous punishment for an angel no longer holy.
But this isn't about angels of God, or biblical sin.
This is about people, and the cruelty of the world,
and the poor souls who are too pure for it.

Under Pressure
by Kimberly Gilliland

My backpack is broken.
The straps are ripping off,
thread by thread.
It won't zip shut,
the teeth are crooked and missing.
It held too much,
weighed down by daily life.
Ruined my bag and myself.
I am broken.
My muscles rip, tendon by tendon.
My teeth are grinded and rotten
and I can never shut up.
Always talking!
Meaningless topics,
in my mouth and bag.
Dirty charms and fretting seams.
We can no longer take the strain.

Division IV
(grades 10-12)

Did I Do This To You?
by Kendall Thacker

it's been ten hours. you arrive home.
the lights in the living room are dimmed.
I've been napping.
I glance your way to see your hands cracked,
oil and dirt caked beneath your short nails.
almost immediately you reach for the medicine cabinet.
advil. your legs ache.
you say it yourself, you come from nothing.
and yet, you have given me everything.
how could I ever complain?
I often ask myself this.
because I always end up doing it anyway.
I attempt to answer your questions.
you are simply curious about my day.
it's only been a minute,
but sleep is already pulling me back.
I am left with a single, fleeting thought.
did I do this to you?

Wet Curtains
by Lillie McAdams

Wet curtains.
Rain is coming through the window.
I know I could close it, but it's too hot.
My scars have faded white and thin,
And the pain is starting to dull
Crisp air dances in.
The cold feels nice on my skin,
Contrasting with the hot air of the room.
I'm comfortable.
The boards are getting wet,
But I don't care, not one bit.
David Bowie's "Rebel Rebel" spins on the record player
It drowns out the sound of my parents fighting downstairs.
I know I'll be alone until my mom comes to sleep in the guest bed.
But I couldn't feel more at home,
Alone,
Where my only worry is the wet curtains.

My Mother's Daughter
by Carolina Bivol

square face
almond eyes
straight hair
in all aspects i am my mother's daughter
except in my mother's eyes
vines of sorrow
Wrap around my thighs
Struggling to reach
my thighs too fat
To fit in my mother's eyes
in her mother's eyes
my mother never fit
so through my mother's eyes
i must be broken in
to the mold
crafted by generations
envy, resentment
and desire all
molding what
a daughter must be

2024 Student Poetry Contest Division Winners

2024 Student Poetry Contest
Division Winners