Westerville News & Public Opinion

Continued

Category: Grades 6-8

1st Place

Matthew Longfellow

Snow Day

The weather man said

Not to go to bed

Because it will snow

And then I will not have to

Go to school

I will stay up all night

And I'll be all right

Because the snow

Will blow

All night long

But then in the morning

I am mourning

Because we have school

Which is not cool

My friend does not

So he is probably still sleeping in his cot

Today I want to stay home

With my garden gnome

He says staying home is just as bad of an idea of trying to fly

In the sky

But then I realized it's my own fault this happened

Because I probably

Have a better chance of winning the lottery

Than the weatherman being correct

The End

==

2nd Place

Brant Henson

Jerry: A Story to Make an Impact

Jerry was a boy with a disease that made him gain body fat and smell bad, so everyone at school made fun of him. Jerry had no friends, only haters. He used to be ignored, until one day when a boy named Fredrico came up to him and said, "Roses are red, violets are blue, Jerry is fat, he'll sit on you!" Jerry's feelings were hurt badly, but he told nobody about his experience. The next day, more and more kids were mean to him, following Fredrico's lead. "Roses are red, violets are blue, Jerry has odor, and he smells like poo!" they sang. Jerry still told nobody. This continued for months. More rude poems were shouted at Jerry. "Roses are red, violets are blue, stay away from Jerry, or he'll squash you!" One day, Jerry was followed home from school by a group of about ten mean children. His parents were still at work, so they followed him in his house, shouting insults. Jerry went upstairs and locked himself in his room, but it didn't stop the horrid noise. Jerry jumped out of his window, killing himself because of the awful bullying. We, as the United States of America, need to take a stand against bullying. Even though the story of Jerry is a fictional story, there are real stories just like it. Stop bullying, and save kids who are victims of it.

==

3rd Place

Isaac Steiger

The Final Goal

Andre De Paulo grunted, eagerly awaiting a chance to possibly go for broke at the goal. This, he knew was a rare opportunity, considering the fact that left midfielders barely even touched the ball. He attacked his emotions, forcing himself not to cry. He had just received a fatal tug at the shirt and a kick in the thigh that the referee had failed to acknowledge. He had no possible opportunity to use his right foot, which, unfortunately was his dominant foot. He'd have to boot it with his left foot.

"De Paulo!" his coach yelled from the opposite side of the field. "You don't look okay!" His coach motioned him to exit. "You need a break?" he called over the roar of the crowd.

Andre winced in pain, but shook his head, determined to stay on the field. He had to stand his ground, or the team wouldn't be anywhere close to a good finish. Of course, this wasn't offending his possible sub (which he knew he needed), it was just that Andre had scored three goals in previous games. If the team sent a good player off, disaster would surely strike.

He rummaged around the field, following the ball with his eyes. He could probably take his eyes off the ball and watch an episode of The Amazing Spiderman before the ball could even come on his side. But he paid attention, despite the fact that there was no reason to.

He wanted nothing to do with the fact that a tie was imminent. He was certain that his team would catch up and win. With their 3 and 1 record, the team probably was as encouraged as Andre was. At least, hopefully they were.

With a hint of despair, he raced down the field as the opposing team succeeded to pass the line of defense. He quietly gave an intense sigh. If they scored, they would pay.

At a time of peril, the defenders would have to be the heroes. Courageously taking final runs and clearing the ball far from danger. But with a rush of adrenaline, Andre realized the courageous defender would have to be him. And he charged.

The striker was surprised at this sudden attempt to stop his goal. To Andre's delight, the striker slowed down. With a final burst of speed, Andre reached the defender -- and slide tackled him!

Feeling the intensity rise, Andre got up with excitement. As he received the ball, the team's fans howled with appreciation. A tweak to the opposing team's success!

Andre smiled. He had the ball! He sped up the field making sure to surpass everyone in front of him.

Andre's team was excited, too. "Great steal!" Andre's friend Pablo exclaimed. "But you might want to pass..."

Andre didn't pass. He kept going on with a grin. If he could just make it past the defenders...

He made it past the half-line with herculean effort. With the defenders in front of him, injury and fail were at stake -- but he still didn't pass! He finally reached the goal, and triumphantly, he gave one last kick, and...

A miss!

Andre scowled, but he wasn't giving up. His left leg was the real challenge. He had to get another shot, or even a pass. He opted for the pass, but no one was in sight.

"Take the shot! Take the shot!" Andre heard his team exclaim. He powered up another close bunt after he collected the ball -- and he missed again!

This was it. Andre decided it was his final attempt. He gave another last effort to bunt again weakly, determined for a score. He slide tackled the ball in despair and gave one last look as he fell to the ground.

Goal!

==

Honorable Mention

Gabrielle McCrea

The Poem that was not to be

Sitting at my desk one night

I thought and thought and started to write

A poem.

The poem that was not to be

It was written by me

By the way.

It began in great

Shakespearian style

With hints of Allen Poe.

I began my prose

About a rose

But somehow my toes

Got in.

And with these phalanges

In entered the Ganges

And that is when chaos began.

In came beavers

In came weavers

In came mistletoe.

When I concluded

I looked

And sighed.

For when I examined

My poem

I discovered gibberish in its place.

A tale of noses, chickens, and steak

A tale of lemurs, French fries, and pear.

And that is when I decided

This poem just was not to be.

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