The Portal

The Literary Magazine of Moss Point High School

Inaugeral IssueMay 2005

$2.50

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Moss Point High School4913 Weems Street, Moss Point, Mississippi 39563

228-475-5721 Ext. 5017 FAX 228-474-3305http://mosspoint.msps.schoolinsites.com

e-mail trough the school website

DESTINATION: LEVEL 5

Co-Editor:Blake Cunningham

Co-Editor: Jessy Hayward

Assistant Principal:B.P. Johnson

Assistant Principal:John Guthrie

Co-Editors: Sophomores Blake Cunningham and Jessy HaywardAssistant to the Editors:Junior Melissa Wallace

Principal Tommy B. MoldenAssistant principals: John Guthrie, B.P. Johnson, James SmithEnglish Department Chair:Patricia MossJournalism Advisor:Don Vardell, APRAssistant Advisor:Deborah McCraneyPrinting: School Publications www.schoolpub.com

Education is about many things in life. Of great importance to teachers is providing important opportunities for students to embrace in growth of mind, spirit and body. Moss Point High School works in its community

and family to offer such dynamic opportunities for every student. With this magazine comes a new opportunity for students to showcase their work in writing and the arts, thanks to a vision of members of the 2004 – 2005 journalism classes and support of the English teachers. Thanks to the hard work of several teachers and students, that vision is now reality. The first issue of a school’s literary magazine will be innately special; it’s the first. However, everyone involved with this magazine’s production wanted it to be very special. And, so, I trust you will agree, from its name to its content and design, The Portal fulfils that “very specialness.” The name of the magazine conjures up to readers a unique window through which they can see the thoughts, feelings, actions, speech, and movement of student writers and artists. The content, mostly gleaned from an obviously successful inaugural issue literary contest, is very satisfying. Coupled with non-contest submissions, the quantity of The Portal indicates a strong side of MPHS students heretofore not so publicly seen; there is truly more to these students than first might meet the eye. The quality of the content speaks for itself. Then, given somewhat rigid parameters, not the least of which was a short time in production, the design and layout is commendable, particularly when one understands that this entire magazine is a real “first effort” for these students-and both advisors. Now, The new vision is that The Portal presents itself to MPHS students each semester beginning in the fall, 2005. Thanks to everyone in the English department who worked so hard to make this happen: Patricia Moss, chairperson; Corrine Nicholson, Regena Harris, Eleanor Joiner, Deborah McCraney, Lewis Sims, Wesley Rogers, and Ruby Woods. The art department contributed significantly to this project; special thanks to teachers Todd Hall and Carol Hutcherson. Thanks to our underwriters; Mississippi Export Railroad, Chevron, CableOne, and Dr. J.A. Willis. And thanks to students who share themselves and their work. Co-Editor, Sophomore Blake Cunningham, writes, “This year was an amazing year of challenges in art and literature. I, for one, am happy for the privilege to be an editor of this magazine. I was reluctant to create this magazine at the beginning of the second semester, but I decided to try it out.” He's also decided to begin writing under his pen name, "Austin Blake". As the magazine’s advisors, we are very glad young Mr. Cunningham did try it out, and did, along with Sophomore Melissa Wallace, pretty much totally manage the literary contest. Blake conceived the publication's overall design and chose the front and back covers. The Portal is a major accomplishment for the students involved, those contributing writers and artists whose work is featured, and those who worked as journalist-producers. Readers will also notice design and layout by Sophomore Jessy Hayward, who voluntarily took on this role when she noticed production was behind schedule. Significant editing contributions, as well, earned her the co-editor position on this first issue. Here is another new beginning for students (and the community) of Moss Point High School. We salute you, students, and are proud of your good work. Readers, we trust you will find all their efforts compelling!

Don Vardell, APR DebbieAdvisor McCraney A/Advisor

AboutThe Portal...

EDUCATION: Moss Point’s Roadmap to Success!

Superintendent Tressie S. Harper, Ph.D

Moss Point School Board President Mary Carter

Board Members: Clarence DuBose, Joe May, Henry Pate,

Pam Perkins, and Fred Presley

The Portal is a periodic publication of Moss Point High School, Department of English and Journalism, for sale to students, faculty, staff, and the community. The content of this magazine represents the views and opinions of the writers and not necessar-ily those of the magazine’s staff, advisors, MPHS administrators, MPSD, or the School Board. The Portal is funded by magazine sales, direct donations, and advertising sales. Advertising is accepted for all products and services that are legal for minors to possess or utilize, and do not otherwise violate any school, district, or state policy. The Journalism Department holds membership in the Journalism Edication Association, Mississippi Scholastic Press Association, and South Mississippi Scholastic Journalism Association. Submissions are welcome from students, faculty and staff. We reserve the right to edit for clarity and length, and to refuse submissions. The decision of the advisor is final.

The Portal

Tommy Molden

English DepartmentChair Patricia Moss

Assistant Principal:James Smith

INAUGERAL ISSUE VOL I NR 1

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Contents

About the cover...The front cover is a piece that Sophomore Nathan Ritter entered in the contest. He won 1st place in his category. The full version of his artwork can be found on page 7.

About the cover...The back cover is a piece that Senior Patrick Edwards entered in the contest. He won 1st place in his category and the full version can be found on page 6.

Front Cover

Back Cover

Mission Statement

Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to as-semble, and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances.

DESTINATION: LEVEL 5The mission of Moss Point High School is to provide each student a diverse education in a safe and supportive learning environment. Moss Point High School will join with parents and community to provide students with the opportunities to become responsible and productive citizens.

First Amendment

Illustrations........................................................4 Nichole HydePainting...............................................................5 Robin Mizer, Nathan Ritter, Samantha Taggart, Gineva YoungDrawing...............................................................8 Patrick Edwards, Chris ArmstrongShort Stories......................................................9 LaTerrica Johnson, Montrice EzellPoetry................................................................11 B.J. Richards, Bianca Booker, Jessy HaywardHONORABLE MENTIONS................................13 Audwin Dubose, Samantha Booth, B.J. Richards, Jessy Hayward, Melissa Wallace, Marquittia Pugh

CONTRIBUTIONS

I N S P I R A T I O N S......................................16 Kiarra Poindexter, Christine Chapman Marquittia Pugh, Samantha Booth Austin Blake, Melissa Wallace Kia Brown, James Barron LaTerrica Johnson, Citalin Morales

Contest Winners

Contributing WritersJasmine Armstead

Courtney AttiaMonica Booker

Alamandria CothernCassondra Holloway

Faith JacksonAshlyn Orr

Deana RetherfordMelissa Wallace

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Look, look! It's beautiful, isn't it? Today was an "aquatic" day, so I have a mermaid as its representative. Is she not

exotic? What is she thinking? Or could she be waiting? It's anyone's guess that makes it interesting and captivating. This way, I can reach out to you, my onlooker-my audience.

This makes me feel somewhat uncertain about the future. We as humans must endure what-

ever comes our way; good or bad. It's a bit nerve wracking not knowing where you'll end up twenty, ten, or even five years from now.

I've decided to get in touch with the "dark side" today. I was feeling deep and mysterious and

wanted to draw something with a kunoichi. They were considered to be the deadliest of assassins; geisha by day, ninja by night. That's why female ninjas were the worst, because with such an inno-cent deisguise, you never could tell.

Illustrated Expression

Nicole Hyde, a 17 year-old Moss Point High School junior, entered some of her own creations into the illustrated expressions category of the school literary

contest. She created very unique illustrations of a young lady in different dimensions. This was not her first successful contest; she’s entered once before. Nicole has illustration in mind as a fallback career.

First Place

Nicole Hyde

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A r t i s t i c S e n s e - P a i n t i n g

BestofShow

RobinMizer

The winner of the literary contest’s Best of Show is 14 year-old, Robin Mizer. It is Robin’s first time to win a contest. The picture is of a boy

sitting in the corner of a room, alone. Robin was very surprised that she won. When asked what made her draw the picture, she said, “I was bored and depressed, and I didn’t feel like I could do anything right.” Robin’s favorite form of art is drawing. She plans to create more art for The Portal in the future.

Untitled

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A r t i s t i c S e n s e - D r a w i n gFirst Place

Second Place

ChrisArmstrong

Patrick Edwards, the first place winner in the drawing category, is a graduating senior, 18 years old. He plans to begin his

college career at Jackson County Community College. Patrick drew a “majestic bird” in “...colored pencils because they are my favorite thing to use in art. Paint brush is not my thing.” He used matting board as the back board. “I had never used it before. It was excellent; came out just the

way I wanted it to.” He likes that the background was black instead of white because “It made the whiteness of the bird stand out.”

PatrickEdwards

Christopher Armstrong is an 11th grader who won 2nd place for his piece of oriental-style art. He never realized

how good his drawing was until his art teacher, Todd Hall, entered it for him. Chris draws for his own pleasure. Although he hasn’t truly decided yet, he thinks he wants to make art his career.

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Second Place

First PlaceNathanRitter

SamanthaTaggart

A r t i s t i c S e n s e - P a i n t i n g

Nathan Ritter, a sophomore, submitted a work of art and won

1st place. He has entered a contest before and won 2nd place, so Nathan felt that he should put his abilities to the test one more time. He plans to make a career of painting because he says that it is a very relaxing hobby and he absolutely loves doing it.

Samantha Taggart, 17, a junior, says art is one of her many interests, as well as one of her greatest talents. She loves to express herself by

drawing and painting. Samantha chose to participate because of her love for art. Her water color of a butterfly was inspired by her art teacher, Bill Nelson, as well as the butterfly itself. She says she chose water color because it is her favorite type of painting, yet remains a challenge. An artist since the 7th grade, she won a spot on a calendar for another one of her paintings.

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Third Place

GenivaYoung

A r t i s t i c S e n s e - P a i n t i n g

Third place painting winner, Geniva Young, is a graduating senior, who submitted a paint-

ing of a small-town quiet home. “Mr. Hall really inspired me to enter," said Geniva. “It seems like what my house would be like. I imagine my future home being just like this one,” she said. What are Geniva's feelings about winning? “I’m really excited. I feel like an ac-tual artist now.” Geniva plans to major in nursing, but says she wouldn’t mind having art as her minor.

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Short Stories

It all started when Angel told Cordell that she wanted to get to know him. They both just recently came out of serious relationships, and Cordell was a bit skeptical about getting into another one. Neither

of them knew of each other’s past, but Angel reassured Cordell that at the moment she wanted to be friends, and nothing more. Angel smiled at him and gently placed her hand on his shoulder. Cordell was so captivated by Angel’s beauty he could not turn her down. Angel was in her sophomore year at Norfolk University and Cordell was a senior in his fourth year. Angel did not know why she was so drawn to Cordell. She saw something in him that she hadn’t seen in anyone else, and she was anxious to know just what that something was. They had both been secret admirers of each other, but neither of them tried to approach the other. When Cordell arrived home, after a long day at school, he noticed the light blinking on the answering machine. He walked over to the nightstand and pressed play. “Hi Cordell, this is Angel, remember me? Well, I was hoping that you would join me tomorrow night. I think it would be a really good chance for us to talk, and I would really like to see you. I will be at Sha la Bistros at 7:00 pm, and if you’re interested, I hope to see you there. Well I guess I’ve rambled enough, I hope to see you tomorrow. Bye!” Cordell did not expect to hear from Angel so soon, but he was thrilled that she called. The next evening he did not expect to be so anxious to see her. He arrived at Sha la Bistros at 6:00 pm but, he didn’t want to seem desperate so he went around the corner to a local coffee shop to try to calm his nerves. At 6:50 pm he started walking back to the restaurant. When he made it to the front he saw Angel waiting there for him. He stopped dead in his tracks. She was too beautiful to him and he knew that he wanted to be with her. He went to angel and they were guided to their seats. While they were talking, they lost track of time and before they knew it, the night manager came and asked them to leave, which was funny because Sha la Bistros closed at 1:00 am. Cordell walked Angel to her car and they bid each other goodnight. That night was the beginning of many more. Angel and Cordell fell in love fast, almost too fast. By their four month anniversary, Cordell wanted to pop the big question. He felt that he didn’t need anymore time because he knew that she was the one. The one he would marry and grow old with. Cordell knew that no one could love him the way Angel

Test of TimeFirst Place

Seventeen year old La Terrica Johnson's “Test of Time” is a solid first place choice.

did. His heart, mind, body, and soul belonged to her. He thought she felt the same. Cordell decided to wait, despite of his anxiety, until their six month anniversary. He had devised a special plan that he was more than ready to put into effect. Cordell planned to woo her continuously from the time she woke up, until the time she laid down. Angel received a wake up call at 7:00 am. Even though she was not a morning person, she was glad to hear his voice and she jumped up quickly. He told her to look in her closet. She found a special bag he’d packed her for the day. All of the clothes in the bag were labeled so she wouldn’t have any problems. Throughout the day, Angel and Cordell relived many precious moments and revisited some of the places that they’d been on precious dates. Towards the end of the night, Cordell took Angel to the first place he laid eyes on her, which was not the first place they met. He had noticed Angel a year prior to their difficult introduction. He still found her stunning but, decided not to approach her due to the fact that he was in a relationship. Cordell took Angel to the park, which was not significant to her because they had never gone there. Cordell explained to her that it was the place where he’d seen her for the first time. Angel was shocked because she still wasn’t aware that he knew of her before she introduced herself. Cordell led her to this large willow tree where he had set up a beautiful picnic area with a variety of fruits and desserts along with her favorite champagne. As they sat there engaged in a beautiful conversation, Angel grabbed a chocolate pastry. When she looked down to bite it, that’s when she saw it. There on top of her pastry was a three carat engagement ring. Angel sat there just staring at the ring, and then she started to cry. Cordell raised to one knee and asked Angel to marry him. To his surprise, she said no. When he asked her why, she explained to him that she felt she wasn’t ready for marriage. Even though she loved him more than anything in the whole world, she wanted to finish school, and start a life. Cordell was devastated. He just didn’t understand why she turned him down. Angel sat Cordell down and explained everything to him. They decided to just remain a couple because they felt that if their love was truly real, it would stand the test of time.

La Terrica Johnson

This was La Terrica’s first time entering a contest; she was very "shocked and happy

to win."Could be the start for a young writer?

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When I cry, no one knows my pain, they just all think I am lame. Some people think my tears are the same, but I know my tears are not the same. I don’t want

any fame, I just want everyone to treat me the same. When I cry, my tears tell stories. My tears are tears of worries. I am a person, I cry too. How would you feel if someone put you down and talked about you? I have some true friends, but only a few. If you were me you would cry and think that your life was through too. My life is so sad, my life is so hard that I am afraid that I can’t even make a new start. I am afraid that when I cry no one cares. I am a person that is just there. People talk and people stare just like I am not even there. When I cry it’s for true reasons. It’s because of people who are deceiving. My heart is in pain, my eyes are bleeding. My tears are falling to my feet. Some of my tears happened underneath my sheets. My soul wants to be free. My soul wants me to be me. My happiness is now cloudy. My love is no longer here. All of these things went away in one tear. When I cry I remember those days when my father and my happiness went away. I was seven years old that day. My tears tell my stories of what it’s like for a kid when their daddy or mommy goes away. When I cry my tears fall from my heart, because I know that my life will forever stay in the dark. I am helpless, I am ashamed, I am mad because I couldn’t stop these things. When I cry, I lay on my grandmother’s shoulders because she is like my mother. I want to succeed, I want to go further, but my tears keep getting in the way, my tears will probably take my breath away one day, and that day I will still cry as I did today. I will cry

Junior Montrice Ezell wrote a short story to let everyone know how she feels and what’s going on in her life. “I’m a writer, so I wanted to let people know I can write, and that I’m an intelligent person," she said. In Montrice’s spare time, she takes pictures, writes poetry, stories, and plays. She also baby-sits. When she graduates, she plans on becoming a veterinarian and part-time writer. She also plans on going into the Air-Force. “I didn’t know I was going to win, but when I did, I was very happy and it encouraged me to put out my own book." This won't be her last contest as she plans on entering others. “I’ve already put my poetry on poetry.com and I have the chance to win $10,000," she said.

Second Place

Short Stories

on my dying day. Stress and pain is all I saw, and was put through as a child. And now, I am almost grown and still crying freedom song. Sometimes I sit and think what if my life was different? Would I be this sad? Would the things that happened to me happen anyway? Sad things happen, sometimes happy. I’ve been put through a lot of things because of who I am. I just want a peaceful place and I want to go there. When I cry, my brother cries, because he is afraid that I am gonna die. It’s kinda sad when you have no happiness. When I cry I want you to see my stories and pain, so you can leave me alone and don’t add to my pain today. Some people say I am afraid. A lot of people don’t even know me and judge me before they even speak to me. You’re this, you’re that, sometimes they even call me a brat. I am struggling to be the same, I am struggling to take my life and move it the right way. I was once so happy no tears at all, but now it’s different, no happiness will come. I can’t tell my life through a poem. I can’t say the words I want to say, I do not cry all the time, but I cry when I feel mine and other peoples pain. People judge before they know me and not know me, before they judge not knowing that that person might be going through something and needs a hug. I am a troubled person. I am not a trouble maker. I am not in love, but my tears and stories say know me before you judge.

When I Cry

By Montrice Ezell

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Billie J. Richards (BJ) is a junior at Moss Point High School. She has had many family tribulations

in her life and uses them as her inspiration for her poetry. She has been writing poetry all her life. “Writing poems is my passion,” BJ said. She hopes to one day make writing a full time career. This literary contest was her first official entrance into competitive poetry. She had no expectations of wining and was surprised when her friends told her; she almost didn’t believe it. BJ said wining has given her the confidence to continue to compete.

Red eyes, beauty lies,Beneath the wicked’s skin.

Trouble brews, it comes in twos,To take your nearest kin.

Red eyes, a young man cries,For his long lost love.

Her life ends, a scream for revenge,And he’s cursed from above.

Red eyes, a woman tries,To find the man she let go.

It’s not what it seems, she hears his screams,As his soul is taken from below.

Red eyes, a suicide,The woman’s life is lost.

Her child runs to see what was done,And she sees what her life cost.

Red eyes, a child dies,From a painful shot.

“Three suicides,” says the Red eyes,As he laughs at what he’s got.

Red EyesBy Junior Billie Richards

A girl who has a long lost soul,She was blinded and can’t reach her goal,He heart is torn, and her thoughts collide,And in the end results, she’ll have to hide.

She’s battered, bruised, and all alone, wondering whoWill help her when she’s wrong, she’s covered in tearsAnd abused on the skin, who can tell her blood is thick not thin,From her fears she tried to run, only I know where it begun.A girl that’s filled with pain, who will stop the cloudiness and the rain.

A girl who is frightened and gives the world her all,She’s tired and fed up ‘cause nobody catches her as she falls,Who will be there when she calls?Who will make her smile like a happy doll?

Who can she talk to?who can she run to?who can she hide behind?who can she tell?who can she walk to?answer me who,Is it the person I’m writing to or is it you?

You can’t answer me can you; I have nobody but myself,There’s nothing of nobody left,I’m here all alone, who can I talk to, and who will pick up the phone?

Who?

P O E T I C A L P I E C E SFirst Place Second Place

Bianca Booker, a sophomore as Moss Point High School, entered the literary contest and won 2nd place for her poem

entitled, “Who." This is the first time she’s ever entered her work into a contest. She’s been writing for a very long time, and absolutely wants to make a career out of it. “I write to express the way I feel and to let my anger out,” said Bianca. Entering the contest was a way to express her writing to others and to let everyone know that there are more dimensions to her. Bianca Booker

B. J. RICHARDS

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She stands alone,She walks alone,

She sits alone

She cries alone,She laughs alone,

She screams alone,

She wonders,She thinks,

She hopes and she dreams,

She loves,She hates,She hurts,She prays,

She just wants to know why,Why the world turned out so cold,

Why the kids are left alone,She wants to know,

How she can help him to see he is loved,Help him to see he is needed,

How can I help him to see he is worth something?

HelpThird Place

Jessy Hayward, a sophomore, entered her poem “Help”; and placed

3rd in the inaugeral literary contest. Jessy entered the contest because she was often told she should. Also, she likes to write. She said “I write a lot of poetry. I write what I know; and I know my life best.” Although she has entered drawing contests, this was her first time entering a poetry contest. In her spare time Jessy paints.

P O E T I C A L P I E C E S

Mississippi Export Railroad

P.O. Box 87434519 McInnis AvenueMoss Point, Ms. 39563

Toll Free: 866-353-3322Website: mserailroad.com

Office: 228-475-3322Fax: 228-475-3337

Jessy Hayward

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The Poem of Life

Is life really worth living?Is life a dream that we think is real?Wake up! Wake up!And smell the disappointment of knowing that you failed.What is life I say?What is life!Who do I hear people speak?For only when I hear it’s bad and negative things.Can anybody or anything help me keep my cool?I say things to make people happy!But I forgot the most important thing.That is how to make myself happy.What am I to do?What am I to say?Do words hurt, or is it another way to make you go insane?Is it your way to make someone else feel your pain?Why do we cry?What am I to smile?Do we do it just to fool ourselves on the inside?That’s why I think everybody at least once in their

By Senior Audwin L. DuBose Jr., '05

life asked themselves!Is life worth living?Is it the end of the road, or is it just the beginning of life?Why was I created?Why do I still stand?Why did life have to come my way?Stop talking! Let me talk!I have a good point of view.It’s quiet now, should I speak, will someone stop me if I speak?Junior…Somebody said in the distant.Yes?Do you want to say something?Say something! Say something!But nothing comes out.Why! Why!I have so much to say!Well do you, the person said again.No that’s alright.I blow it again!My time has come to pass, should I stay or should I go?Think about it deep.Is life really worth living this way?

I left my kettle atop the stoveYesterday,I left my house, my messy clothes, dirty dishes in the sinkMy kettle whistling still atop of my stove

I ran away from that old houseIt even left me this wayI don’t know of nothing thereNothing but the messy despairMy kettle whistling still atop of my stove

K e t t l e W h i s t l i n g S t i l l A t o p M y S t o v eBy Senior Samantha Booth

I ran to the river and I threw away that old keyWith the spare of my life, I was still at handMy torn up clothes whispered out with demandI left my kettle atop…the stove my kettle whistling still atop of my stove

My house stood tall that nightIt burned the next day I came back…everything washed upon my faceEverything was lost except

Honorable Mentions

Samantha Booth

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I promised to never leave you,I meant it then,

I still do,

I swore I would always love you,I did then,I still do,

It is said that it is better to have loved and lost,Rather than to never have loved at all,

How can this be?Is the whole world full of morons?

Idiots with no feelings?Do they have no hearts which lie beating?

I cannot even begin to fathom the emptiness which will consume me,

I cannot bear the thought that if I love you I should let you go,

Push you away,I cannot, but, I must

I love you dearly and I cannot picture how badly your life would be lost,

So it is with an aching heart,Tears in my eyes,

And Sorrow in my face,That I push you away,

That I push you toward a life without me,That I pretend not to hurt, so you can go without

guilt,So I will smile,

I will hold my head high,I will pretend that it does not bother me,

Pretend I do not want to die,

I will be that girl,The one in all the songs,

Who runs into you on the street,While you are hand in hand with love,

You will smile and introduce us,Ask me how I’ve been

I will lie about my happiness,

All because you asked me which was more important,You or my life,

When I replied “my life” you walked away,Never knowing that you are my life.

My LifeBy Sophomore Jessy Hayward

Honorable Mentions

Truth and QuestionsBy Junior Billie J. Richards

Stepping off; falling down.Wear a smile or a frown.Love and hate balance the scale.

Light conquers darkness, but who can tell,If there’s flames in heaven or angels in Hell?A new bright color starts to fade.

A silent scream unsaid.Alive living or living dead?Succeed to fail or fail to succeed?Guilty or innocent to what do you plead?God versus the Devil or do you believe?A life created or a life not made?

Is prying forgiving or forgiveness a sin?Is losing so bad or is it best tow in?Is the meaning of life to love or hate? A random meeting: coincidence or fate?Like a jumper who jumped too late.Wanting to go but here’s where I stayed.

To say too much or too little to sayThe stars at night light up the day.To be awake but know you’re asleep.To run! To dance! To slither and creep.To see a new deer fall and an old frog leap.To ask politely or strongly persuade?

From start to finish; from beginning to end.The world dies as it slowly spins.Is there truth between the lies you told?The world spins faster as the young grow old.The stars at night shine as green as jade.

To look through someone else’s eyes,And see the affect of too many lies.To hear the truth come back form your past,And know you’re protected from the shadow’s cast,Then your true color starts to fade.

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Free

By Sophomore Jessy Hayward

Honorable Mentions

Do you know what pain is?Do you feel when your has been broken?

Do you hurt when you are left behind in a barren waste-land full of tears and sorrow?

Do you cry when you have no one left?Do you live another day knowing that

tomorrow couldn’t possibly exist?Do you think of death when someone has done you

wrong?Do you cry at night with blood on your sheets?

Why do you cry when left all alone?Why do you quit when you are so close to finishing?

Why do people tell you that you are not worth anything?Why do they hurt you if you didn’t hurt them?

Do you run when being chased by a love you’ve never known?

Do you hide when the time comes for you to stand out?Do you shine when all that surrounds you is darkness?

Do you know when the time is right to ask yourself “Why am I here?”

All of these questions are meant specifically for you,

And I hope someday that they will help you get through.Get through the pain, love, and

sorrow, And give you a better tomorrow

By Melissa Wallace

Question For You

Love is like learning to walkStumbling from place to placeAnd you might even fall on your face

Love is like learning to walk.

Bruising up your little armMom might need to buy arm pads to be wornLove is like learning to walk.

You keep trying and trying to get rightBut it seems like learning to walk is putting up a fightLove is like learning to walk.

You keep wondering why it keeps making you cryI don’t like to see tears falling from thy eyeLove is like learning to walk.

Love is Like Learning to WalkBy Marquittia Pugh I thought I didn’t have a

father when I was young, but now I know that I was

wrong.I’ve had my father all along, and he was right there with me at home. He may not have helped my mother conceive me, but he was the one God put on earth to father me.He was always there through thick and thin, when I thought-my mother and I just couldn’t win.Now I know better, that he’s the one, because I love him more than the real one.

My Daddy

I feel like my heart is shattering,Breaking into a million pieces,

I’ve been here before,It’s all so familiar,I remember these walls,I’ve walked these halls,

I’ve seen these empty faces,Even more than I’ve seen my own,This lighting is almost just right,I can see myself and no one else,Yet a room full of people at the same time,

I’m all alone,Yet I’m fearing the other,This is my home,

I’m free from judgments,Free from the loneliness of being surrounded,I’m free from heartache,I’m free to just be me.

Anonymous

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Self-Esteem

Inspirations

Problems in my life occur daily, once or twice,All because of one single mistake, A risk I’d never thought I’d take,

I don’t understand why I did it,I would have made a smarter decision if I could relive it,

I thought in my mind, “No one would ever know”,My stupidity has gotten me somewhere I never would have gone,

My mistake is constantly brought into the light,It has molded my recent life,It’s thrown in my face and it feels like a knife is gutting a sensitive place, My heart,

No one knows how I feel,No one cares how I feel,No one knows the real me,Is this one mistake permanently engraved in my history?

False accusations,Personal humiliation,And my hurt feelings,

The damage my family has done,To my heart will never start healing,

Bottom line, My mistake is my mistake,And only I can deal with it

My Mistake

I’m a person of sadnessThat’s also seeking happinessThere’s something that I fear

I just can’t get it clearWhen thinking about it, it brings a tear

To my eyesWhat a surprise

To my momBecause I’m usually so calm

I get talked about,Picked on, what’s going on?

Time after timeI tell myself it’s going to be alright

I hate biting my tongueI hate not being able to fight

What a delightTo some girls who aren’t nothing but talk

And can’t walk the walkIt ain’t my fault

‘cause you’re a big bullyAnd full with nothing but cruelty

You don’t have the authority to rule meYou can’t tell me what to do

Just let me be!

By: Marquittia Pugh

Life’s road isn’t always a fair way,Life isn’t always easy to go fromWhere you are

The rough may often impede you onThe journey toward your goalOf an unexpected hazard may take a heavy toll.Keep strong your faith, in the midst of all life’s ups and downsAnd trust your silent partner who willSafely guide you through life’s poundsSo, don’t be afraid to travel the road of tomorrow,For it shall become the road you traveled yesterday.

By Christina Chapman

It’s aBeautiful Road

By KiarraPoindexter

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Untitled By Samantha Booth

Inspirations

Feelings of deeper romance

Fills the roomof what was empty in disguiseInside no one hearsnothingnot evenbitter liesnothing but the silence“stands”of what was once that empty room

no noise, no noise, no noise, no noiseno noise fills the roomblasted upon the wallstender, dim lights are not comingthe chilled, still room come overtheein what was once pauseand all it seems to beis now

Community means pulling together

To help build a park. Watch out for our neighbors.We’re part of our community. That’s why we’re proud to support theMoss Point High School Journalism Club.

Living…you sayis a precious giftthat even as we breathe

we are blessed by some unseen forcebut how do you know?

Living is darknessand it lies sometimesbut it is willingand understandingand it never steps down.

Living…you sayis a bright journeythe beginning of everythinghowever, few believe what you saybecause you are impureof heartof soulof mind.

Living is a thing,a weak and ominous thingthat is only partpart of something greatersomething unseen.

There are journeys beyondand farther than we can imagineand we believebelieve that living is this journey.

However, those who think thisnever inspected below the surfaceand glanced beyond lifeinto the darknessand loneliness of death.

Death, oh lovely death, is thereand it waits for all who liveand there is no reason to fear itbecauseDeath is just the beginning of our journeys.

The Unseen Journey

ByAustin Blake

- 18 -

Midnight blue skies fill my dreams.

Bright shining stars pour into the sky, I see you looking at me. Angels sing heavenly songs while we dance into the night. You hold me and whisper things into my ear that sound like love songs You tell me that you will never leave me, but at the stroke of midnight you disappear into the night with out a trace of your lovely face. Your voice haunts me in my dreams as I wake up in cold sweats thinking about you. Then I wonder about what could have been. At night as I sleep and dream I see my self laying on clouds, counting the multitude of endless and vast number of stars. Seeing the zodiac signs form and change into others a soft whisper is heard. Starry nights are a once in a life time memory that is only felt by those who have once loved, and those who want to be loved Starry nights are special.

Starry Night

The fog o’er the bog of my mind.Grows steadily

thicker as…Like a stone I sink.As I sink I think…why?Why am I sinking?What was I thinking?Saw did I…the trap of hope.But avoid it did I not.

By James Barronsinking

By Kia Brown

Inspirations

On the edge of me, I found a place that I cant leave.A place of wondrous love, hat, and despair,

While all the time, I loved it there.The sun bleached grass flows higher and higher,Symbolizes my higher power.The blood drenched moon in which I love dear,Shines down from above on everything down here.The beautiful creatures are like none you’ve ever seen,They seem to glow and gleam.The water is like sweet candy in my mouth,But at the same time, it tastes like a trout.The scenery changes from time to time,All depends what’s on my mind.Some days, it’s like hell has given birth.Given birth to a day full of anger and despair,While all the time, I loved it there.I never thought I could see,See a place as screwed up as me.The moon that bleeds is like my heart,It bleeds for the people that I had to part.The sun bleached grass is like my love,It pours over everyone I hug.The beautiful creatures are the boys I’ve like in my life,I felt silly dreaming I could be a wife.The candy water is like my tears,That I have saved over the years.The changing scenery is what I imagine,While all the time, I loved it there.If you ever see this place by me,I hope that you live to be.This beautiful place can turn on you in a second,So be ready for my reckoning.

By Melissa Wallace

Me So while I sink,I do think…Why did I dare to hope?Try do I…to swim,Through the thickening fog.The more I try the more I cry…As I think of why…I dared to hope.

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I used to think that you were my everything

I used to think that we could be together

I used to think that we…Could fall in love

I used to think a lot of thingsBut I guess…I was wrong

Because you left meYou left me so suddenly that I

didn’t even knowIn the end I guess we couldn’t

beIn the end so fast we fell apart

In the end

By Citlalin MoralesIn the End

SilenceAlone on the bench outs ide of the school

Out in humid, windy airSi lence

Birds chirping nearbySilence

No sounds or voicesSi lence

All aloneSilence PeaceWind

ColdSilence

Sti l l a loneBag rol l ing down the s treet

Flying on the windNo noise

People passing byNo one speaksStaring at me

Wondering why I’m there…Sit t ing alone

In the growing darknessIn front of the school

No one aroundBut me

Inspirations

I want to fill my pages with genius lyrics.I want my words to fill people’s spirits.

I want to tamper with the borderline of fantasy and reality

I paint pictures with my words and I color images with my lyrical metaphors.

I open minds and I open doors that allow people to think outside the box.

I fill my pages with quizzical phrases that allow me to express myself.

Writing is my way of escaping from the negative things that bring one down.

So when I write I enable my self to smile and not to frown.

When I feel deep sorrow my pen just seems to movePhlegmatically along the lines allowing my mind to

sort out quixotic rhythms and rhymes.

Each time I write, I enter a new chapter in the pages of my book called life.

At times, I wake up in the middle of the night with immense intuitions that illustrate the pages of my

life.

In times of happiness and bliss, my pen moves rapidly leaving a dusty mist, writing imponderable

alliterations that I use for motivation.

When I write, it is my time to think outside the boxWhen I write, I look for ways to knock you out of

your socksWhen I write, it is all about me

When I write…

When I Wri teBy LaTerrica Johnson