Saturday, February 11, 2017


Zachoia Cooper
(age 16)

Be nice to someone
said Ma.
You never know when they
might NEED it,
and I'm thinking of a new friend
won't do you any harm.

Said I,
What'll I get 
from going out fo my way
to make someone else's day?
I've got my own to make.

said Ma,
If you find that anywhere in the Bible,
I’ll pay you a million bucks.
Until then, just you remember
it does say to love your neighbor as yourself.
If that isn't for your good,
then God's a liar
(which He ain't.)

Bye Ma,
I said.
I’m gonta be late.

I ran out the door to the park.
My buddies and I threw the ball for some time.
Whenever I saw that dazzling white sphere
flying through the air towards me.
I caught it right where it was supposed to be
in my mitt.

Eating out of a big bag of Sour Patches
Little boy comes sauntering over,
sitting on the fence
swinging his legs
"Whatcha doing?
Can I play?"

“Go away, squirt,”
says Jake, drawing his thick, black eyebrows 
in a frown.
“Yeah,” says Max, then presses his usually smiling lips 
in a frown.
Sebastian just gives a glare with those intense bright blue eyes
looks down
in a frown.

Frowning’s the thing to do; I join.
I think,
I’ve got my own day to make.

The sun is at just the wrong place,
all the sudden
it must be blinding me.
I can’t catch any of those balls any more.

The wind is howling so weird,
I keep thinking I’m hearing a little boy crying. 
But, no,
the park is long empty.
We’ve been playing for over two hours.

It’s getting dark,
We run to get our gear
and get home
before our moms anger

Even as I put the extra balls away,
I feel like quicksand inside, all the 
good feelings of the day
sucked away
as quickly as they arrived.

Until my hands hit the bottom.
There’s a big bag of 
Sour Patches: A treasure trove for a little squirt.

a paper, 
a stick scene of baseball-throwing boys, 
a sentence in thick, red crayon:
i hope you hav fun.

Shame washes over me 
like the dark of a
But this thought rises with it:

Love your neighbor as yourself,
for God ain't a liar.
Be nice to someone

cause kindness just made your day.

(Lesson #19 of the Poetry Lessons - Narrative Poem) 

If you are between the ages of 13 -18,
(or know someone who likes to write stories)
I would like to post your story here.
Send me an email. I'd love to read your story!

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