Students at Nativity of Mary Catholic School in Independence have been working on writing projects. Teacher Megan Carnes is sending some of their best works to The Examiner to share with the community.

Life and Death

By Diana De La Cruz

Nativity Eighth Grade

Death hunched over to look down at mortality.

The grass below him writhed and blackened.

He stared as the bright flora and fauna darkened in his hold,

All around him tinged the color of ashes and flames.

Then, he looked beyond the human realm

and set vacant eyes upon his counterpart.

There she sat, in all her grace and beauty,

Teeming of who she was.


She sat down on the lush grass,

smiling lovingly at the colorful birds that circled her form.

The foliage she touched bloomed and sprouted.

The sun greeted her, its rays shooting down to meet her.

Vivid colors and luminosity encompassed her being.

He then asked her,

“Why does everyone love you but despise me when we are both their creators in equal?

Her smile fell and her eyes gleamed in grief.

One of the birds around her had strayed,

fluttering closer to him.

Death shook his head and held out his palms.

The bird landed on his hand,

giving a final wail of anguish.

The bluebird’s left wing was bleeding,

and Life’s grasp was weakened,

and Death claimed the bird.

“It is because,” she answered wistfully, “I am a beautiful lie, and you are an ugly truth.”

One of Many

By John Paul Jackson

Nativity seventh grade

It’s stained black back

Its curled edges show against

the green grass like black pepper in

white soup.

Its veins show dark

and black like dye in water.

Its sweet almost honey smell.

Its zig zag flying pattern almost

like a humming birds pattern.





A boney stem bluntly showing.

So many fall that you don’t

even know its there.

Have you ever sat and listened



And see red,



leaves fall on

the ground.

A deer reaches up and catches a

leaf from a sapling.

I hope you, too, can see the magic of fall.


By John Paul Jackson

Nativity seventh grade

The sun shown over the hill,

Almost down.

The stars will be out soon.

The lollipop sun,

going down like a ball of fire.

Its last rays before the night comes.

Its cold finger grabbing on like a fish on a hook.

You pull,

But it is going to win.

No matter what.

The fire is the only shield of the cold night.

The stars,

they are the sons and daughters of the day.

The moon is the wife.

The morning will come,

but you will not know it is here

because the night has won.

The arms of the morning

will always be there.

Life depends on it.

Just as you sleep,

the night will sleep also.

I know you have to be there,

In that place, to understand.

The war of night and day.

The ever raging night. The pacifist day.

My Slice of Heaven

By Lorna Green

Nativity seventh grade


Crust, sauce, cheese, and toppings.

The cheese,

white and yellow.

Flowing through my fingers to the feeling of

shredded paper.


Red, yet elegant.

Herbs and spices competing for my taste

bud’s affection.

Carb loaded fluff,

I wish was softer.

Very reliable, like the earth.


Man, they make up the entire pizza.

Pepperoni, sausage, peppers and bacon.

My slice of heaven.

A Gesture in Life

By Adrianna Cook

Nativity seventh grade

The way it looks

All the colors

Green changing into red,

Yellow, brown and orange.

Falling at the slightest breeze.

The sand they make

When stepped on

Hundreds of small crunches

The sound they make

When they fall in a small pile

The sand they make when

A kid jumps into a pile

Making them fly up, then glide

Back down

The small is the best

The smell of old wood

Comes to mind

The smell freshens the air,

Leaving an everlasting scent in the world.

The feel of the dryness

At the slight touch it could crumble.

Crumbling in your hand

Then throwing it up in the air

Trying to catch it again.


The Silent Kill

By Alex Pocock

Nativity seventh grade

Sitting, staring

Wanting to eat

as she is talking.

The box is looking

right at you.

Oh, you are so hungry

She eats in every class, talking

and teaching,

But all you see

is the little squares,

Covered in salt and the

sweet, crispy taste.

She leaves and you go in for the kill,

Getting ready to take one, but

Wait something…

Something stops inside you.

You think my time will come

To eat

In front of others

But until then the silent

KILL must go on.

When There is No More

By John Alexander

Nativity seventh grade

Walking, walking.

Going higher and higher,

until there is no more to walk.

Falling to the ground, you hear the crashing


And sirens going off

You speak your last words

after this long life.

You don’t know what is waiting for you

on the other side.

Still, you close your eyes.

There is nothing to be afraid of

now you are with God.

And loved ones.

My Noise

By Jenna Dawson

Nativity eighth grade

Bum bum ba dum

Music, my little paradise.

The place I go when I want to ponder

Something, or not think at all.

Bum bum ba dum

The place I escape to when I want to

Stop feeling a certain way.

Where everything makes sense, and the

Only surprises are the beats of a new song.

Bum bum bad um

My addiction. Listening to it

Everywhere I go. Always listening, escaping,

My little paradise.



By Melanie Johnson

Nativity seventh grade

It’s as silent as a rock, but moves gracefully and

Effortlessly through the wind.

Watches the children, shouting, yelling, laughing, just

Eaten lunch, talking about so and so’s new shoes. With a

Secret smile on its face, no one knows the unknown plant.

Its soft plant, with leaves like cat whiskers, whipping

Through the wind, while words like “misunderstood” and

“judged” get tangled.

It tastes like a touch of sand, the un-smelt wind, green

And yellow, are its colors. Fragile yet perfect, still, nobody

Knows the unknown plant.

Electric Rush

By Maranda VonHolten

Nativity seventh grade

Back and forth, back and forth,

Feeling the wind beneath my hair.

Giving me an electric rush.

Back and forth, back and forth,

It’s the best feeling when you feel the

Rough chains against your hands.

Seeing the world differently than before.

Back and forth, back and forth

Smelling the fresh air of autumn.

Hearing the chains going: clack, clack, clack

Its always better with an electric rush.