Evie Thompson: I write because of how I feel inside. I can't get it out when I'm talking to people or when people ask me if I'm okay, so I just ignore the question.
Pen in my hand by Evie Thompson
To the pen I'm writing with in my hand
I know it's hard to get it out of my head
Within my head are my deep thoughts
Sometimes I want to scream and shout
But I can't let them out
So I shut the door behind me
Where a room is filled with darkness
I sit in the middle of the room
With nothing
But then I grab a piece of paper and start writing
How my thoughts hurt me in the past
I guess you could say I finished the task
Now I can stop hiding behind a mask
to tell people how I feel
in a darkness that was filled
Jayden Gaston: As a kid, my mom would have to go to work early or whatever, so I would have to walk.
When you're walking, you see so much more than just driving by somewhere. I felt at home in nature, at peace.
When I feel at peace, I'm able to write more like, ‘The sky is so pretty’ and then describe in my own words why it feels that way, or I write about playing as a kid.
Writing is a nostalgic feeling for me. It's getting whatever I need to get out on top of expressing myself with so many different words.
I wanted to touch on a topic that everybody could possibly relate to.
I mean, gun violence seems to happen a lot.
Guns by Jayden Gaston
Guns
your whole life loved ones will say, don't play with guns
they're not toys
but yet they always seem to buy you the toys, the ones to play with other little boys laughing and giggling will soon turn into an awaking nightmare
as two mothers try to put the pieces together as to what went wrong
one son behind the bullet another one on the end
both mothers not able to see their sons again.
how did it change?
how did it go from boys playing a game to one dead and another riding the devil's plane?
Guns
that's your answer right there, right in your face
but you choose to ignore the fact that it's never going to change
it always feels like a generational thing
little boys dying, mothers crying
it feels like we always seem to fall into this repeating cycle over and over again
i have a fear
a fear my brother's not going to grow old due to a bullet making his blood cold, a fear he won't get to live out his life due to an unguided soul making the wrong choice one night
it seems many others can relate, but won’t speak up and attempt to keep little boys safe
These poems and interviews were recorded in the library at the School of Innovation in Springfield. Special thanks to Beth Dixon from Wellspring and Kathy Lee, the principal at the School of Innovation.
