Lewis Cass High School, Walton, Indiana,

Kings' Courier

Sentimental

Olivia Johnson, Senior Editor
May 18, 2017
Filed under Poetry and Prose

  Is there pain in loving too much? In suffering for the incomplete, trying to put together the pieces when they're splattered on the concrete?   Is the grass always greener? Or is there a delusion in the hue, a mirage that paints a better picture from words regretted a...

Reflections

Reflections

Malley Ronk, Senior Writer
May 18, 2017
Filed under Poetry and Prose

I can remember back in our seventh grade year, when we walked these halls with so much uncertainty and fear. Our chubby baby faces and mascara caked eyes never thought we’d leave here feeling so wise.   I can remember back in our eighth grade year, when we were no longer scare...

The Lost

Drake Hall, Senior Writer
May 8, 2017
Filed under Poetry and Prose

I look back at the woods and see the figure. His head is long and his eyes hollow. His long fingers hold onto a piece of wood connected to the cold piece steel. His torn lips say come… and I follow.   The towering trees block out the moon’s light. His torn black robes seem to hover...

Growing Up

Growing Up

Lanie Miller, Sophomore writer
May 8, 2017
Filed under Poetry and Prose

I am looking out the window I see birds and bees And the flowers and trees I feel the time go by This reminds me of old happy days And watching the swings sway I hear the chirping of birds And the buzzing of bees I feel refreshed and at ease I think about the past How my li...

Window to the Soul

Josie Woolever, Sophomore Writer
May 2, 2017
Filed under Poetry and Prose

We all feel alone at some point in our lives. It occurs for a lot of us in high school. We feel like outcasts, always trying to meet everyone’s standards. Most the time those standards never really matter, all that matters is that you’re happy with yourself. Let’s all just put on our brave faces...

The Faceless

Drake Hall, Senior Writer
May 1, 2017
Filed under Poetry and Prose

In the woods behind the barn, there lies the man with no name. He speaks to the 2 children at night but has no tongue. His words are sweet to their ears and earn him his fame. He comes at night under the window and without air in his lung.   He tells the boy and girl come and play an...

Eye Hate School

Eye Hate School

Malley Ronk, Senior Writer
April 13, 2017
Filed under Poetry and Prose, Student Life

“Art allows us to find ourselves and lose ourselves at the same time.” This is something that wasn’t very difficult to find. Paper filled binders that swamp our rooms, these are the things that led us to our inevitable doom. Late nights studying with coffee fueled rages, keep us u...

The Society that Created a Monster

The Society that Created a Monster

Madilyn Hoff, Junior Writer
February 6, 2017
Filed under Allegory, Poetry and Prose

The society that created a monster Youth - who are like people but act like creatures Wanting to grow up so fast Taking absurd orders but only from the top story features   Almost like the dictator of how we should be Skinny, beautiful, emotionless Them, us, you - But not the real me ...

Alone

Madison Miller, Senior Contributor
December 7, 2015
Filed under Poetry and Prose

She was sitting alone. In the middle of the floor wondering how she got there, wondering what went wrong. What did she do? How did she manage to mess everything up again? She could hear everyone in the living room laughing and talking as if nothing were wrong. She wished she could join them. The girl w...

The Unforgettable Summer

Megan Greer, Senior Contributor
December 7, 2015
Filed under Poetry and Prose

Fans squeaking, whispers in the crowd, cattle humming to one another. Showtime. Emily woke to the sound of her alarm ringing in her ear. 8am, the hour she would awake to every summer day to head down to the barn to work with her 4-H calf. She stumbled into the old barn to hear the sound of her impati...

Parting With Loneliness

Logan Henry, Senior Contributor
December 7, 2015
Filed under Poetry and Prose

As a little girl, the people around me seemed different. They all looked at me funny. I was always told by my loving mother that they were envious. I did not know what they could be jealous of, definitely not my crazy, curly, orange hair. After my mother died, I did not have anyone to rely on. My fath...

A Race to Remember

Lucas Bowman, Senior Contributor
December 7, 2015
Filed under Poetry and Prose

“Just take a deep breath,” I hear from my coach behind me. I finally open my eyes to see a line of people waiting for the start lined up along the right side as if they were waiting for the grand opening of an amusement park. Somewhere in that crowd I knew my parents were there. In the middle stand...

Lewis Cass High School, Walton, Indiana,
Poetry and Prose