I realized I loved you when you weren't here —
Glad that I realized, but never free
Of the regret that I never let you know,
Never made my love a certainty.
I was merely a ship to your heart,
Passing, unnoticed, drifting apart —
I wish I'd been the traveler all along,
Walking your journey, not watching from afar.
When the nights grow cold,
Do you miss me the way I miss you?
Do you hope I was still by your side,
Or has that hope grown cold too?
Her husband asks,
"Why don't you ever cry?"
"How come you don't like hugs?"
"Why don't your friends ever visit?"
"Why do you dislike holding hands?"
She answers softly,
"That's just the way I am"
Unsatisfied with her response,
He called her mom
And confessed his worries over the phone
She requested to speak to her daughter alone.
She scolded her,
Demanding to know what was wrong
Little did she know,
She was the one who took away her daughter's warmth
When her daughter was a teen,
She'd yell at her,
Hoping it'd make her turn out strong
And it did, but it also made her cold
Ten years later, Selene's love and affection survive only in words.
The world's always been cruel to her,
That's why she always stays at home.
I have falter so many times
Blaming the world that surrounds
Runny away from reality instead of facing it
Thought everything would be easy
The pressure kept burdening me
"What a wonderful sincere and hardworking girl you are!"
It didn't feel like me
It didn't feel that I was worthy of being called that
Worthy of being me, being my parent's daughter
What was everything for?
Why did I feel what I felt?
Running away just makes it worse
Its as if the shadow of it clings to me every second I move
Blinding me from seeing something beautiful
As beautiful as life itself
How messed up everything was
As I looked outside ,
The shinning rays of sunlight fell upon me
Highlighting me in this very darkness
That I can do better
It's never too late
"In the fading light of evening
the sadness will dissolve..."
--- from "How", by S. J. Marks.
Ashamed, I have vilified my mother
and (even more) my father.
I greatly loved her (but not him).
Should a son speak well of parents?
After many years, pay tribute to
who gave them their existence?
But what should be the duty of
creators toward their creations?
Are, late in life, from one past 80,
these long- delayed condemnations
of neglect all justified, the angry
abuse, physical and mental?
Punishment without reason?
Even actual abandonment?
I had a drunkard always absent wino father --
and a resentful mother -- neglectful, mean --
deserving (she believed) much
much more than she was given.
So late in life to write these words.
Here they are.
How useless?
How necessary.
“I'm Sorry”
They said to the lifeless body.
There's no remorse in their eyes.
A hint of pleasure.
They know it was their fault.
Leaving them alone.
They knew the person was lost.
Afraid.
They begged for you to. . .
Stay?
.
Your body lies there.
The bleeding stopped.
You cried for them but they left
Why do you still want them?
They.
Hurt.
You.
Too often we don't realize
what we had until it's gone,
Too often we get so busy
we forget what we had all along.
These days we all seem scattered,
each walking separate roads,
Caught up in our own worries
and carrying heavy loads.
Somewhere along the way we drifted from family and old friends,
Missing the simple, precious moments that mattered most back then.
Back when time was given freely,
when a visit meant so much more,
When laughter filled the living room and no one rushed out the door.
Far too many times we let
unimportant things fill our minds,
And only later do we understand
what we left behind.
So be sure that you let people know how much they mean to you,
Take the time to share your heart
while you still have time to.
Be sure that you appreciate and cherish everything you have,
And be thankful for the little things
in life that hold meaning in your heart.
So make the call, go make the visit, don't wait for someday to start…It could be to late.
Make the time now because the greatest things we ever have
are the people in our heart.
It was the least he could do.
And still that seemed excessive.
Decided I could live without his crumbs.
AP: 3rd place 2026
Should I reply now?
It’s not the same.
I’m not the same.
You don’t feel familiar.
You look foreign.
The class was loud, very loud.
Your existence was announced.
You looked new,
but you were old news.
I talked.
You shared.
I talked.
You ignored.
I talked.
You disgusted me.
New year, new me.
New year, new trigger.
The moon gazed at me longer.
Your sparkling shadow appeared.
You talked.
Why.
You talked.
Anger.
You talked.
I answered.
You talked.
And I realized.
You are a fool.
The wind arrives first.
The vane follows—
both pivoting on each other's breath,
each feigning command of the other.
Always angling,
always gesturing towards fate,
we mistake the wind for destiny
and proclaim its turning, as choice.
The pressure to change gathers early—
before any thoughts take root
before any words dare surface—
caught in vain, in breaths withheld.
Mouths set their vanes in advance,
jaws brace against what's unsaid,
both poised in futile readiness.
Trying to predict the swerve and swirl
the vane will inevitably take.
You make promises falling short on delivery.
What kind of future do we foresee?
Not looking very favourable to me.
Not many more last chances for free.
It seems unwise to push your luck.
I’m weighing all my options.
Slowly losing faith in you.
AP: Honorable Mention 2026
Referred to as but of one
Wears, for both, outmoded
Forms on its stage
Through dress and speech, casual
What's paraded and proud
'The shameless Age'.
She thought about calling her mother
but she was busy
the thought passed
when this thought returned, she argued
she had so much to do
there wasn’t much to say
maybe tomorrow
but tomorrow never came
years have taken their toll
that's how we roll
we do our very best
and let go of the rest
we watch our life go by
and try our best not to cry
the world is in bad shape
all choking on a sour grape
AP: 2nd place 2025
Too late...for first impressions
Too late...for last reflections
Too late...for long discussions
Too late...for lost objections
Too late...for mending fences
Too late...for new romances
Too late...to pay the Piper
Too late...for second chances
Too late!!!
Be careful with kindness, don’t give it away..
Too much of it leads the heart astray.
It’s not always ego when drawing a line..
Sometimes it’s courage.. a much healthier sign.
In the end, it’s just you in the fight..
So guard your peace, and sleep well at night.
Things will shift and people will stray..
Be true to yourself, and don’t be afraid..
All great things begin with a spark..
A dream ignites through the cold and the dark.
Goodbyes may sting, but don’t resist..
Some exits lead to paths you missed.
Tune in to your soul, its quiet, wise beat..
Not noise and chaos where loud voices meet.
A "no" that’s true beats a "yes" that’s fake..
Better for the heart, than a promise that breaks.
You played with fire, and yes, you were burned..
Every scar a reminder of something you learned.
And though attention may shine and fade..
Respect is always the sweeter accolade.
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