Poetry From Around Central (2022-2023)


Alayna Edblom

Welcome to the newest poetry section of The Arts! A wonderful display of different forms of poetry submitted by students from around the school is shown here. The Central Times hopes that seeing all the creativity from fellow classmates will inspire you to submit your own creations and take pride in your talents! You can submit your poetry to [email protected]!

Poem from Junior Megan Puckett



Something all people strive for.

High school is hell for those who are unpopular, but life is hell for those who are.

To go home and primp.

Receive hate when you strive to be liked.

Not knowing who to trust.

To work hard for something and hide all the effort.

To edit out flaws, break yourself down.

Rely on others to rebuild you in their image.

A human potato head, hollow.

Slowly falling apart.

Allowing others to fill the emptiness.

To break, to be rebuilt.

To break others to make them feel how you feel.

Restart the cycle.

Loathe yourself.

Cast your fears onto others.

To be used.

To be left when you no longer serve their purpose.


Poem from Sophomore Molly Spiers


I may not be a loud Friday night,

But I am a calm Thursday afternoon.

One body filled with a skeleton,

Filled with emotions and feelings,

But I’m in control,

And I love me.

Poems from Sophomore Melia Reddick


A deep longing for a home, in which one cannot come home to. 

A yearning for a home that either doesn’t exist, or has never existed,

Whether a person, place, or thing-

One cannot return. 

This perfectly describes how I feel about You. 

You were home. 

Your love was home. 

Your good morning texts, 

Always ending with an exclamation point, and a kissy emoji was home.

It was safe,

And it was warm,

And it was bright. 

I loved nothing more than walking barefoot

On its wooden floors,

Or sitting at the table

Drinking coffee,

Writing novels-worth of poetry

And sappy love songs,

All titled to You. 


But now, 

I’m not sure where home is anymore. 

Is it the green grass beneath my feet?

The blue sky?

My favorite Spotify playlist on repeat?

These will do.

Just for now. 

Until I can find my way home again.

To: You.

Or maybe I can find a home in

Scrolling through the same Instagram feed again and again?

The messages of sympathy that are meant to be sweet, but end up putting salt in the wound and gasoline in the forest fires that are to come?

 Can I find a home in the boredom of waiting for my heart to get bored of you?



Look at yourself.

Look at you. 

All stretchmarks and scars. 

All calloused hands and tears. 

All belly fat and unbrushed hair. 


Toxic, devilish, and needy,

To only himself.

Messy room.

Dirty dishes.

Sideways smile. 


Big dreams,

Bruised knees.

Vinyls on the wall,

Guitar picks on the window sill,

And my thoughts. 

Running wild, In the darkness of my twisted brain.

My soul.


Waiting to be released,

From the strings that only I have attached.

From the body, 

That only I have judged. 

Look at her! 


This isn’t who I am.

This is what she has become. 

This is what the world has shaped. 

This is what the world has done to her.

But me?

I remain untouched. 

I am loud,

I am clumsy,

(And sometimes a little obnoxious)

And I am imperfect,

But I love myself!

I am sunshine and rainbows, 

But the person in the mirror has always been my enemy.

Deep breaths,



Look at what the world has shaped. 

A monster

A monster.

With teary eyes,

And thick skin,

And bruises on his knee

A monster.

With kind eyes, 

And a sweet soul,

That waits for herself to cut the ropes

Tangled up in the knots she tied 

Happy hour, 


Loud, worn boots

Look at your imperfections.

Look how beautiful they are,

Look how strong!

Look at what the world has shaped. 

A monster!

A beautiful monster,

With a mirror, 

Who is learning how to say “I love you.”

Who is left, 

Yearning to untangle the knots he tied,

So long ago.

Haikus from Junior Caden Haas

1.) Automated by some
Ever split, Conjure grew
Destined short-coming


2.) Unwilling comrades
The stench of awkwardness grew
Hastened to escape


3.) A machine walks lone
Unknown searching, hope for discern
A machine collapses


4.) Silence unending
Strength and sorrow intertwine
For the lesser


5.) Palms condensate
Ever endless consternation
Know that a path awaits