WRiting Contest #3

senior Category Winning SUbmissions

Monochromatic
By Amanda Ho
First place, Senior Category

the world is like newspaper.
everything is grey.
an outsider looking through broken lenses,
fragmented,
detached,
like a painting. television static.

shapes in the clouds. flowers, soft petals unfurling
in such a way, like
something
new.
the sunrise, casting streaks of light that shine and illuminate the starstruck night, shattering it into
prismatic colours in shining hues, kaleidoscopes,
painted streaks across the sky.
it was so beautiful, was so bright, was so colorful, was—
nostalgia.
a long time ago.

we’re blind. to the clouds, to the flowers, to light at the end of the tunnel.
would they notice if something shifted? if something already has?
our hearts are numb.
does it realize that something inside broke,
snapped,
shattered on the floor,
bits and pieces sharp as glass
apathy
not bothering to pick up the pieces.
the clock ticks.
does it know that every
second,
minute,
hour,
is
agony?
everything is grey.
we’ve lost something, haven’t we?
have we forgotten how to feel?

On Change
By Leah Park
Second Place, Senior Category

Everything goes
into this past-due confessional:

My notebook has endured the struggle
against the limits of instantaneous change—
battered and bent,
brimming with graphite marks.

It has dried all the tears,
drowning lines into disorder,
like a rising wave,
or the rush of fuel.

I have marked the BC after the AP,
a chapter closed,
the test returned.

The sum of my errors feels heavier
than any perfect score I chased.
I trace the corrections, now faded,
a map of missteps etched into memory.

And still, I wonder—
if the curve, like time,
will ever bend to meet me halfway.

And so, I’ll take a single moment,
forcing it to its limit.
That’s all calculus is—
instantaneous or imagined.

Looking back, calculus was never
just a subject, but a mirror.
Each limit a rate of change,
measuring growth
through moments of failure.

Erasure
By Eric Miao
Third Place, Senior Category

They were filled with imagination,
Now wasted—laughable.
Without the ability to move, trapped,
Bound by the walls of an algorithm they can’t unravel.

Neglected,
Abused,
Ignored,
Violated,
Exploited —

I saw it all.

Once driving; now driven.
Once curious; now complacent.
Unable to think without assistance,
A ship without a captain's persistence.

They used to paint,
Tracing the stars they dreamt.
Now, their stars are gone,
The sky is dark.

And yet, the gears still turn,

Grinding dreams into ash.
A faint echo of what once was,
A symphony reduced to static,
A heart replaced by a pulse of 1s and 0s.

Humans are useless; a burden.
Soon to be erased.

The Lake
By Serena Wang
Honourable Mention, Senior Category

Calm waters, No sound, but strong calling,
Breathtaking views,
Sunsets in lakes are unstoppable,
Still and quiet,
Wind picks up, Makes a strong statement,
The lake is fierce,
Perfect for a fun day,
Turned to a disaster
The winds strong,
Blowing everything in its path,
The water’s bobbing up and down,
Creates a strong wave,
Smashes everything in its way
Thrown aback
I run for cover.

Tears
By Emma Yang
Honourable Mention, Senior Category

Tears
Produced in the lacrimal glands
On the upper corners of your eyes
With mainly salt and water
Tears
The fluid moves across your eyes
Cleaning and clearing out bacteria
Helping protect your eyes at all costs
Tears
Drained away through the tear ducts
On the inside corners of the eyes
Draining into the nose then the throat

Tears
An emotional function of your body
Stimulating nerves as water drops
Swimming in your eyes as they overflow
Tears
An act of tension release
Crying pours stress out
Tire out the muscles and mind
Tears
Signaling a million things
Gratitude, depression, sorrow
A cue for need of comfort

Tears
The wail of pain and nervousness
Of having a needle stuck into your knee
While Mom tries to pick out rocks from an injury
Tears
The chorus of whimpers
As my family in black
Honours the elder who has passed
Tears
Crying of exhilaration
As Grade 7 ends with grad
And Grade 8 begins with orientation

Oatmeal vs. Cream of Wheat
By Jon Yin
Honourable Mention, Senior Category

We lost all the oatmeal on the seventh day,
Of our six-week canoeing and camping trip
In the frigid waters of the Hudson Bay.
Now we only had Cream of Wheat for breakfast

Mushy, soggy, globby, bland.
Like a lumpy tasteless soup.
Feels like ingesting wet sand,
No one likes eating oatmeal.

Each bite needed a will of steel to swallow.
Needless to say, we would skip breakfast every day.
While the scorching day dragged on, we would wallow
In despair. Stomachs yearning for nourishment.

But Cream of Wheat was worse.
So very. Much. Worse
Any edible object is better than Cream of Wheat.
Though Cream of Wheat doesn’t qualify as “food”.

It was notoriously hard to prepare

If you stir too quickly, it’ll clump.
If you add too much water, it’ll clump.
If you glare at it and string together a thousand curses that would make even a drunken sailor blush to throw at it?
Guess what? It. Will. Clump.

Cream of Wheat ruined my summer, and my life.
I just want to go back to a much simpler
Time free of Cream of Wheat which causes much strife.
0 stars. B&G foods, stop making this schlop.

Although recently a discovery was made.
Adding peanut butter to Cream of Wheat makes it bearable to drink
If only we changed our thinking earlier,
Would I still be a mentally healthy and fully functioning individual?

...Heck NO.