The sixth annual Parker Poetry Week carried on the imaginative and thought-provoking feel of previous years, inspiring and growing the creative writing skills of Lancers across grade levels. 

Poetry Week included poetry readings in English classes, poetry games during a community-wide meeting, readings in Nicholas Commons for Upper School students, readings over the loud speaker each morning, a Poetry in your Pocket activity, and more. 

Several students have graciously shared their written works with us. We hope you enjoy their creative musings as much as we have. 

Why do I like sad songs?
Why do I put my air pods in,
and shout the lyrics of break ups I’ve never been in?
It’s not the sadness or pain that I crave.
I crave the things they inspire.
For, I cannot write a tragedy
if tragic things have not transpired

I know it’s probably
better to be chronically bored
than the protagonist of a tragedy
but emotionally,
the poet in me disagrees.

After all, tragedy
is the mother of poetry,
the mother of art,
Tragedy is what sets us apart
from vermin in the jungle.
It’s what makes us human,
to wake up everyday and struggle.

Though I would not like to be a bug anymore than I would like to die.
But my hubris would like to see the universe try.
Face the wrath of the gods and come out victorious.
Write a story about it all. Wouldn’t that be glorious?
(un)fortunately, I don’t think I’ll get the chance to prove any gods wrong today.
I suppose I’m stuck with sad songs and English 10 essays.

– Olivia B., Class of 2026


From learning how to walk at one
To going to Middle School at eleven
My age journey is like a trail around the world
Never ending
I have gone through so much
At two I got a brother
At eight covid struck
And at ten my last year at elementary school
But that is not the end
At fifteen I’ll go to high school
At sixteen I’ll start driving
And at eighteen I’ll go to college
Being eleven is like when you have a Tide pod in your hand and you want to see it burst
Not for good purposes
Just to see it explode
By this I mean you sometimes just want to see something burst
Something go off

– Siona U., Class of 2030


The sun like a ripe mango emerges from behind the mountain
The cool wind feels like little snowflakes hitting my face
The towering trees emerge from the shadows
The birds start to sing
The stars and moon withdraw
The shadow of the mountain creeps closer
The rabbits come out of their holes
The lizards bathe in the sun
The camp is near
The hike is almost done
It started with the moon
And now it ends with the sun

– Graham V., Class of 2029

Flowing limbs, swaying bodies, rapid feet
Lovers dance under the veil of moonlight.
With gazes like jewels, crowns, honey sweet
Adoration apparent in their sight.

Twisting, twirling, like sunlight that remains
After a sunset, painting the clouds red.
Graceful and fluid like a summer rain
Pitter patter on the floor, without dread

Oh, what to give to make this night longer
Filled with joy, joy more valuable than gold
‘Til a moment is given to ponder
That everything, eventually, gets old

The two lovers part as night falls away,
Hoping their love will last another day.

– Yuyou M., Class of 2029