YES Prep 2019 Student Poetry Showcase

Pictures of students in black and white

The 2018-2019 school year has come to an end but we would like to take this opportunity to give you a peek at the great talent housed at YES Prep Public Schools.

Below you will find poems nominated by English Language Arts teachers from our Eisenhower, North Central and Southeast campuses.

Added bonus, Misti Morgan, YES Prep’s English Content Director, also nominated AP Literature teacher Lauren Berry from YES Prep Northbrook High School.

Daisy CThe Art of You 

Daisy Crisostomo – 11th grade, YES Prep North Central  

Spin the wheel of color, inspiration 

drawing your every breath. Delicacy 

bleeding through the canvas, while fixation  

distorts the eye of one to jealousy. 


Your frame holds the beauty incomparable  

to those the mind imagines. Hues of gold 

that reflect your talent, unshakeable  

to the world. Oh, what beauty you hold. 


Flowers, color of snow, wait to bloom. 

Clear blue waters that cleanse the heart and soul 

and yet, manage to drown us in gloom. 

Our emotions drawn out, leaving us whole. 


Our meaning to life found behind your frame.  

Leaving an essence never to be tamed 

Ruben CChanges  

Ruben Carbajal – 11th Grade, YES Prep North Central 

A world of innovation and future. 

As technology consumes our new lives 

Destroying the past and wrecking creatures 

While leaving behind people who lack drive. 


As nature persists through death and rebirth 

The colors alter from lively green to 

Sober yellow that overthrows the earth. 

That quickly happened before you even knew. 


Those that were once close have now disappeared. 

For It was only a matter of time  

And now it has come true what you have feared 

There was no stopping this simple deadly crime 


All these changes put one in confusion 

Only understanding my own reflection 

Emily P.You Close Your Eyes

Emily Popoca – 11th Grade, YES Prep Southeast 

You close your eyes 

And see the stars 

Lights shining through 

Through those eyes 

That once as bright as stars 

Held the oceans endless abyss 

Through your eyes  

That once saw dreams 

You see it there  

You see the guy who’s standing there 

Ambar R.Blanco 

Ambar Rojas – 10th Grade, YES Prep Southeast 

No se me viene nada  

a la mente.  

Cada vez que me   

ponen a escribir mi  

mente se cierra  

por completo.  

Es como si alguien viniera y  

de repente me cerrara las puertas para  


Que es lo que escribimos (question mark 

Sera suficiente esto (question mark 

Le gustaria a la maestra (question mark 

Mi creatividad en esta clase esta al cero  

Sera por eso que no me concentro (question mark) 



Caityln Bishop – 10th Grade, YES Prep Eisenhower 

His name is Doubt. 

He manipulates the brain 

He latches himself onto the host,                                      

and makes him believe the worst. 

Makes him think of failure. 


His name is Fear. 

He hides in the corner. 

He comes when his victim is vulnerable, 

and takes control of the mind. 

Makes him hate the unchangeable. 


His name is Shame. 

He talks to him every day. 

He forms when he is foolish, 

and makes him feel stupid. 

Makes him scared to move forward. 


Doubt, Fear, Shame. 

All of the above. 

They are all disguised, 

by lies from within. 

The Battle is hard. 

Akilah SFemale Empowerment 

Akilah Smith – 10th Grade, YES Prep Eisenhower  

We can all have our own crowns  
 don’t frown 
Something about that brown
We don’t have to be friends 
But each individual success
Is empowerment for the rest
So please don’t stress 
When you see someone doing their very best 
Let that be a motivation for you to do whatever you have to do to excel 
Mother’s support your 
daughters dreams 
Why work against one another when we all 
can build as a team 
Each and every
 dream brings some steam  
It’s time to focus 
And never settle for less queens 
But it’s time to spread your own wings 

Lauren BerryVersions  

Lauren Berry – AP Literature TeacherYES Prep Northbrook High 

In my father’s garage, I am born wailing, covered in dust.  

I am four, three, two, one. I live under the spiderweb that strings together  

the leather photo albums where the versions of my childhood are stuck  

under transparencies wrinkled and yellowed, lifted by my unsteady  

hand. In my father’s garage I am forced to smile, I am shaking 

with joy, I am laughing so hard my eyes close, I am blind 

when I smell an orange blossom, blind when I blow out birthday candles, blind  

when I kiss my father goodbye on my first day of school. In my father’s garage 

I pray in a first holy communion dress, but also a mermaid costume  

and I have red hair, I have lost teeth, I love a pony led by a stranger at a fair. 

In that garage, I am alone in the photo jigsawed from when I cut my girl-enemies  

away from my body. In my father’s garage, I am a white rose corsage resting  

on my first lover’s dashboard so its silver pins would not hurt me  

but the petals fell nonetheless as he kissed me in that car 

parked in my father’s garage. In my father’s garage, I am wet,  

I tread water in the neighborhood pool that will be doused with chlorine 

when I step out of it and run to my father. In my father’s garage, I am drenched  

with rain in my best dress in front of a theater marquee, grinning while my father snaps  

the picture. And though it isn’t captured, I remember how he shielded me 

from the weather under his coat. We huddled together as he guided me  

toward the warmth of his car, the car that used to know the way home. 

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