By: Annh Browder

Oh, how she wished she had listened. What tragedy could have been averted if she had only paid mind to the underlying pangs of uncertainty that had plagued her from the moment she had made her choice? It had seemed so perfect in the beginning—people laughing, children playing, the constant bustle of activity around her. She believed this moment to be the pinnacle of her young life, a story to be told to her children and later generations. Her story would still be told, but oh, how different it would be.

She could still smell the saltwater mingled with the sweet aroma that floated from the dining hall, the taste of the delicious food still on the tip of her tongue. At first, she had wondered where her next meal might come from, but the reality was, food, at this moment, was no longer her main concern. Now, instead, her only goal was to survive the night and freezing temperature it brought. She recalled the way the moonlight glinted off the lustrous handrails, the slight, momentary jostling of the ship, the sound of her hurried footsteps as she ran across the ornate, teakwood deck, polished to perfection.

The next thing she remembered was the look of panic on the first mate’s face as he passed her by, his shoulder coming into harsh contact with her own as he rushed towards the captain’s quarters. At first, she thought nothing of it, dismissing it as only a small inconvenience somewhere on the large vessel. She had continued her trek back to her cabin, ignoring the feeling of doubt that had arisen within her. To regret that action now was pointless, as she realized there was never anything she could have done to change what happened next.

The scene had changed drastically the next time she ventured back onto the deck. On the decks below, she could hear the panicked scurry of running feet and the loud voices that indicated something was very wrong. The horizon appeared unlevel before her eyes, and it seemed that the bow of the ship had begun to sink into the depths of the inky, black water. The fear was palpable as the screams grew louder, panic soon overtaking the minds of all those aboard, despite the calming music that constantly played in the background. She moved without thinking, her mind solely focused on her own survival.

Now, here she sits, eyes taking in the open expanse of the deadly Atlantic, ears filled with the eerie wailing of those pleading for a help that would never come and body numbed from the shock of the unspeakable horrors she had witnessed this night. Oh, if only she had listened. Even now, as she trembles in the cold, she knows these three things will never leave her mind: The sound of the gunshot that echoed across the night as the first mate took his own life; the screams of those unable to find sanctuary on one of the too few lifeboats; and the ship’s name, in bold letters, as it descended to its watery grave—TITANIC


By Kristina Stanfill



by Tatum Hogan


Working day in and day out,

Tending the garden,

Preparing meals,

Caring for my sick children —

Ernest, Jan, Silas, Virginia —

But never, never letting them see my struggles.

I was all they knew.

As I’m watching them mourn, I wonder.

Who will take care of them?

Maybe they’ll soon have families of their own.

They will struggle;

Good days will outweigh the bad;

They’ll think of me often.

But for once, I have something I’ve never had before:




by James Frazier


Heroes are made immortal.

For heroes, they make bronze statues

And put on parades on beautiful Spring days,

When the White Ash and Willow flowers bloom overhead.

All to commemorate the valiant acts

That heroes commit in the name of peace.


And waving at people who believed

My tall tales of valor that I had borrowed.

Then a garter snake spooked my horse into hysteria.

He bucked and kicked until I fell, striking my head.

Now I lie alone in this foxhole

That I had heard so many stories about —

Ashamed, for my tales did not follow me,

And my purchased heroism was stripped from me.


By Amy Prince


I, of slender build and dark complexion,

A son, brother, and uncle,

Took for granted what God gave me,

Never taking the time to appreciate the true blessings in life.


Have forever lost the dearest love a man could have;

All for the love of a foreign woman.

I had everything I could have ever dreamed:

A family, a house, and little ones to love.

But I threw it away when I met

The foreign woman.

My mind focused only on male-driven desires

And my mouth on hurtful, unthinkable words.

I could not stand the thought of anything

Except the foreign woman.

My hate-filled rumors and words of lies

Spread like a wildfire in a severe drought.

Through the town, more people believed

The untrue stories that I told.

Seemingly, they cared not for the ones truly hurting,

But instead focused on my well-being.

I had placed the wool over everyone’s eyes

Except for the ones who cared the most,

The ones who knew me for who I truly was.

Henceforth, the love of my life –

The one I believed my bride-to-be –

Was using her own scheme

For her own personal desires.

She used me and played me

To become a legal resident.

She left as fast as she arrived

And I found I was chained like a dog to a tree

Until the day of my death.


Captured my soul and sold it to the devil.

My soul still alive but my body dust,

I must dwell now in agony and turmoil,

Knowing my decisions focused on devilish desires.




By Sam Muñoz



I grew up on the lower East Side of Manhattan.

What a beautiful city mine was.

The hustle and bustle never got to me.



The best ice cream in the city, I tell ya.

There in New York everything went well.



But then this war came outta nowhere and stopped everything.



What devastating things I saw.

A buddy of mine and I were stationed there.

We had to keep a lookout on the camp.



So many casualties really do leave a man scarred for life.

Bodies lying left and right.

Blood smeared all over my face.

A man running around searching for his arm.

What terrible things I saw.

But then the war was over.




Lost her to the Spanish flu.

I cried like a baby.

After all, what purpose was there to my life now?

I did not know what to do.









By Sarah Joyner


I didn’t want to be you anymore.

You were scared, petrified, to be alone.

To be alone was worse than death.


You sought approval above all else;

You changed yourself for that approval.

To not be alone,

You changed.

You became a different person.

You became trapped inside that jail you called your brain,

Imprisoned by your own thoughts.

You saw the world passing you by,


You wondered why you couldn’t live yours,

And then you remembered, you were trapped by your thoughts:

They consumed you, lied to you.

They told you that you would never be enough,

They told you that you would never succeed.

They told you that you would never be happy again.


You accepted your life sentence.

And you went back to watching from a distance,

As everyone lived their “happy” lives.

I didn’t want to be you anymore.

Only in death could I find happiness.

Death was the only escape.





By Charlie Lor













Sister, they won’t stop screaming.

Is this purgatory? Is this hell?




I have fallen yet again.

The Darkness has claimed me, Sister.


By: Autumn Skye Burton


You Can’t Control Me

by Skye Matheney

I tried to tell you. It was just a date,

a movie, late on a Saturday night.

He made me feel like I could fly, but you

came back as if I was still in your hands;

like I somehow belonged to you. Then why

do you tell me I can’t when I say I can?

You think I don’t, but I can see your noose,

I clearly see it hanging there. And if

I step onto your stage, would someone stop

and stare? I’m not a puppet on a string,

a remote-control plane. I will always be

the girl who’s left to cry out in the rain.

I’m not a damsel in distress, I don’t

need your help. I can do this on my own;

yes, I can save myself. I am not

a puppet on a string; you can’t control me.