September 4, 2008
By Amanda Stone, Revere, MA

Overlooking the silent sea,
Wondering what had happen to me.
Above it all, rose a storm,
yet, inside, I still felt warm.

The past cries for attention,
and the future is but a question.
All we do now is watched upon so,
keeping us frantic and up on our toes.

The force falling on us, so heavy a load,
Hopes so high, we just might explode.
So, now, we're left to decide.
How hard will we work, how much will we try?

The author's comments:
Last year I felt under a lot of pressure to do well and excel, but I stopped trying. So this poem was created out of my realization that I needed to try in order to release the pressure.

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