By Michael Steel, age 14, grade 9, B.C., Canada

I was always the boy in the back
Letting time slip through my fingers
Watching the cluster and the chatter
Watching and never doing

A silent ghost, never real and never seen
Floating in the cosmos behind my eyes
Breathing in the synthetic suns
And polyester skies
Starry moons of the finest gleaming plastic
Twenty years in the blink of an eye

I saw the other side of the world
From the back of our classroom
The clay people danced before my eyes
Only I could see them move

Watching the constellations of LEDs
Soar brightly over my head
The things I never saw,
But I always believed

I was the boy in the back
Living a thousand ceramic lives
In a thousand spun-glass galaxies
But I was never here at home

—Michael Steel, age 14, is a high school student and published author currently living in Vancouver, British Columbia. He lives with his parents, brothers and ridiculously fluffy cat, Taco. His hobbies include creating arts, reading, writing, and playing Block Blast.

By Anzhi “Angie” Feng, age 9, from Vancouver/Toronto, Canada.

On the day you were born
At that misty cold hour
I saw your pink little toes
And your skin as pale as flour

I cradled you in my arms
As I slowly weep
Your soft dark hair touched my arms
As you fell asleep

From that day on
I watched you grow
From six o’clock to nine
And as you drifted off in bed
I realized the destiny of mine

Years pass in the blink of an eye
You are now seven
Your thick black hair comes to your waist
Just wait till you’re eleven

I cry in bed every night
Each day as you get older
Soon for a present
Instead of a doll
You’ll want a computer

That day comes way too soon
Time to say goodbye
You’re going off into the world
To find your new life

As you drive off into the night
I know that I’ve done well
And all the time we’ve had together
Is just another story to tell

By Anzhi “Angie” Feng, age 9, from Vancouver/Toronto, Canada.