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Poetry Selection


e-Writer in Residence

Mya Kidson | March 3, 2017

The Hidden Ones

Does your pulse quicken
When you pass those ghouls that haunt the street
Does your pace quicken
Do you walk a little faster?
Sit there in the middle of the street
All watching somewhere behind a smashed up car


Playground bullies
Contained our lives
The horror of that first day I started school
To everyone this is a horror story
But to me it was just life.

The junkyard

Vacant empty scrapyard
Nothing there now
The mound of earth and rubbish rose up
While the rest was so flat
The cold dank blackness cut into the earth
I'd found the hideout


Someone was trying to kill him
But none out to save him
A dead man
I don't know quite how or why
Life is sometimes one big savage joke
Just mirrored walls
That had gone awry