The Devil’s Tongue

By Adrienne C.

Your tongue dripping with lies
Practiced words, lyrics, from the bottom of your heart.
“Like you planned it from the start” though they are not your words nor mine.
Was this your plan then?
To groom me, the way taught by the devil’s seed in your head?
To bloom a fake friendship, better left dead?
Keep your slick lies to yourself,
You can’t control me or anyone else.
Your plans revealed to everyone else
You walked into your own trap, destroying yourself.
Destroyed your life, as we slowly try to rebuild ours.
Although it seems strange, we thank you.
For planting that seed of hope in their hearts and minds,
And breaking your hold on mine.



by Katie Watsky

Ever since I was little, I’ve had the same friend group. Noah, Juno, and Macie. It’s always been us four. Noah’s dad called us ‘The Gang.’ We stayed together from kindergarten to high school. That deserves a medal or something. In middle school I started dating Noah. It didn’t last long, but our friendship didn’t waver.

After high school, our friendship fell apart. No one was quite sure what they wanted to do and it was awkward. Noah left town without warning and didn’t come back for three months. He won’t tell anyone what happened.

For about a year, we all just became neighborly and didn’t hang out. No one really knew why, but we didn’t talk.

Eventually, Juno and Macie got a job at the same record store and we all started to connect again.

That was when we started realizing Noah was acting weird.

He wouldn’t talk to us, he’d be really secretive, and he would never bring up the three months he left town no matter how many times you asked him.

We knew something was up.


by Shalymar P.

Still as may the ocean roar to its pounding thunder,
Still as may the trees stand bare of no leaf,
As shall the snow fall to linen lace upon the ground,
Still may the rose bloom in velvet petals,
With pointed thorns,
As the rose’s stem coiled around my wrist,
And then thistles grew at my knees in dry sprouts,
Still as it may be that the moon could rise in its silver light,
With an iris unblinking to watch as I slept,
Still could it be that the sky is mended above with no tear nor wrath,
And as still as the world tilt in a crooked balance,
I have wondered as the thoughts of mine pondered,
Could so much stay above this horizon that blankets the sun?
And still as the world may close its eyes to rest for the eternity,
As pale and cold with punctured blue veins,
Where leaf and bloom could grow rigid with unpleasant crevices,
And still I know that the earth is not battered nor lit in fire,
For God has settled it in his bronze palms that may the world still turn,
As it did a thousand years long ago,
Still has the amber honey wounded through the comb,
And may as the same word has been spoken as centuries ago,
And if my still world were to shatter as that of frail glass,
And tear apart, I would no I am not the only one,
For years before have some grown so ill of a ravished soul,
To fall to the ground and turn to dust as early as could be,
And still then the world before me could rotate around the bright gold star,
Along the lines with the planets of Venus and Mars,
As it would have been done when the Greeks were birthed,
And still then and now would I know that the broken fragments that have laid upon the sorrowed ground,
Have once reformed to peer the colors of the rain,
And still as some we can differ and compare,
To be of those who were before and the years after my gone to the grave,
Still have we all spoke the same word of the world,
A truth as we rise and truth as we fall,
For still dawn can come forth after the cold dark night,
And still we be strong and then limp weakly,
But it  has still been like this since the beginning of the lonely time.


by Marysa Writes
Splintered tongue

because you were made of glass

and I couldn’t resist

a taste of the love

I thought you were giving me.

Instead you were only reflecting

all of the affection

I offered you.

But still,

I did not leave,

Until one gold-tinted evening,

as the sun surrendered to sleep,

and the moon lit up to shine,

removing the glare from the corner

of you, the mirror,

I could see that she, too,

had slits in her mouth

and I knew

that she, too,

couldn’t resist tasting you.

A Letter to My Friend

by Sarah Branch

It makes me sad that your life has come to this.
I know we’re getting older, losing childhood bliss,
I try not to judge, but you’ve done things I can’t dismiss.

I can barely believe you’re the person I used to know.
You didn’t communicate all year, then we met again a while ago.
I wanted to be friends, I wanted to fix what happened, I wanted you to still have your glow.
I’ve heard too much, you’ve said too much, you’ve made yourself into my foe.

I guess you felt differently towards me, you never wanted to talk.
I still check your social media, though I don’t mean to stalk.
I just want to make sure you’re okay, but how blind I was makes me gawk.
I’m tired of being ignored and used, so it’s time for me to walk.

The truth is, I still care, even if I can’t keep you around.
I hope you get better, I hope your life gets happier, I love you and I probably always will, but I just feel like a clown.
Our friend told me what you did and it made me more than frown.
It makes it worse that everyone knows you, everyone in this town.
There’s no way to escape our five years, it’s so hard to calm down.


by Gabrielle Hill

I wish to tell the tale of Roland

A man washed away with the sand

But without a reasonable doubt

He’s the one I want to talk about


He lives in 1918

For that time he’s awful clean

I don’t know why I thought this theme

But he was only in my dream


I think I like this man

I like a male pale, without a tan

I wish I knew where he was

I wish I knew what he does


For I only remember his face

And his voice

If only I had a choice


Where are you Roland?

Are you still here?

Are you the guy that God had planned?

Or is it only as I fear?


Maybe you’re in 2018

Still the man, nice and clean

Maybe it was a 100 years cause’ I’m old-fashioned

But if you’re not here I’ll be dispassioned


Maybe you’re just in my dreams

And life is just as it seems

Maybe you’re just with the sunbeams

And in the sand, washed by the streams


by Mark S.

When sea is clear, and victory’s near,
I hear the ocean’s moan.
I then jump high, and then I cry,
“Turn back, turn back, I say!”
I watch the beast, as it feasts,
On the unfortunate souls.
Our sailors gone, and victory’s lost,
“Turn back, turn back, I say!”
The coast is clear, yet death is near,
Stranded on an island we are.
No road to walk, no ship to sail,
“Turn back, turn back, I say!”
We make our way, through the woods,
‘Til soon we find a gorge.
A ship there sits, and treasures gleam,
“Turn back, turn back, I say!”
The men surge forth, and are claimed by Death,
The captain distraught cries out.
We wander some more, and worried I cry,
“Turn back, turn back, I say!”
A pit we find, and angry the men are,
So throw me into a pit they do.
Anguished I sigh, and try to climb high,
“Turn back, turn back, I say!”
Nothing I hear, for they don’t draw near,
Abandoned I find myself lying.
No food to eat, no water to drink,
“Turn back, turn back, I say!”

No problems we’d face, if listened had they,
For I warned them at the sea.
Once more I cry, in hopes resolute,
“Come back, come back, I say!”


by Grace T.

She is like the evergreen,

Never obsolete

Always that lovely shade of green

She grows even in a drought

Even when the rain pours out

She’s never a fickle friend,

Her growth has no end

She learns as she flourishes

Even when she doesn’t stand victorious

She’s Something to behold

Like a story never told

There’s beauty in being,

Experiencing and learning

Yet, she’s never fleeing memory

Of who she was

She’s only who she will be

The girl who is like the evergreen

In Color There is Life

by Eshanie W. 

Sweet, lovely lavender

Smoother than silk

Flows slowly as its presence sparks pleasant curiosity

Deliciously tart, yet so sinfully sweet


One of few strings of rope that holds the rocky bridge between us


A smoke so potent, so sweet

So wispy it slips effortlessly through your fingertips

Swirls of darkness move so fast

Yet stand still all the same

A bitterness that’s too much so,

You start to choke only for the small,

Subtle sweetness to suddenly seep through

A truly contradicting feeling

Intimidating, yet comforting

I’ve found both fear and consolation in the darkness


Sweeter than roses,

Softer than cotton

Makes even the darkest colors bright

Wonderfully luscious

Fittingly feminine, perfectly masculine

A sign of extreme strength and bravery


A refreshing breath of air

Gentle, yet rough

Calm rocking, then angry crashing


An indescribable calm, unending sadness,

A blue suit I’ll never see again


Warm cinnamon

A warm, sometimes scorching hot fire


Sweet, spicy, bittersweet

Burning passion, hot, furious anger

A red book tells a million stories


A forest so light yet so heavy at the same time

Rough around the edges, lush as you sink into it

Freshly sharp

Beautiful peace, ugly jealousy

A beautiful tree, reborn until the end of time


Savory spices

Strong yet pliable

A light so bright, no trace of darkness can be found,

At least for the moment

Smoother, sweeter than honey

The kind of happiness,

True happiness,

That makes you grateful for living

An Epiphany

You wore the prettiest smile that day

It was one of the few times

I saw you truly, unabashedly happy


So subtle, it’s almost nonexistent


Stereotyped as plain,

Though far, far from it

A rare, soul-changing sweetness,

It brings you to tears

An innocence, a purity so strong

It makes you dream of growing

Into a being of graceful serenity

I long to see you in that heavenly plane


To live in a world without color

Would be devastating



Welcome Back!

Scribblers, we are back in business!  I am your club sponsor this year, and I’m so excited to embark on this writing journey with you! Please keep up with our blog throughout the school year for tips, tricks, and amazing writing by our very talented student members!

Over and out,

Mrs. R