Page 8 - The Muse 2019-20 Issue

Prejudice is a Candle
Prejudice is a candle Growing larger Burning
Down forests of hope Destroying
Our kind
The flames being Fanned by the
Sick beings throwing Others out
When deep within The different colors Of flesh
We are truly
The same
And with every act The fire spreads We are inspired By the cold hatred So much that
Our forests disappear Not even realizing What we have done
-Eliza Olrich, Grade 6
Blue Ribbon
Justin Fieler, Grade 8
Drawn to Draw Again
My brain is made of light pink crayon, neurons made of crayon dust. Next, my bones and tissue, which is silver crayon, like rust.
Muscles, joints, and all my veins, red, orange, the colors I need. Then my skin covering all of that is tan and tumbleweed.
As I get older my crayons shrink, adding to what I have.
Colors added, and taken away from by body, my big collab.
In sixty years, I touch my white crayon, once again, since year 1.
Once white is gone, I know my long run is now done.
Six feet under, my crayons are not stubs.
But I’ll come back, with another box of crayons, to make those crayons also stubs.
-David Ernsberger, Grade 6
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