1st Place For Creative Writing!

Last Sunday night, my creative writing team for the Innova Olympics won first place for our creative writing magazine! I’m so proud of you guys and all the hard work we put into it!

The Innova Olympics were a coming together of the schools that competed against each other in a number of categories: photography, soccer, robotics, and things like that. The only category that I was excited about was the creative writing category!

My friends and I made up a team of 7 where each of us were given a topic to write about and had to combine them to make a magazine. My topic was about European refugees. Upon getting my topic, I wasn’t all that enthusiastic. I thought I would have to write a sort of informative essay for my topic because what else could I write? Then it hit me to write a poem about my topic and not just any poem, one from a refugee’s perspective. This is where my specialty kicked in!

Here’s my poem right here if you guys would like to read it! I’ve titled it “White Soles”

White Soles


My eyes gaze restlessly upwards beneath the starry sheets,

They do not give me any shine.

My weary head rests on the blue pillows,

They give me no comfort.


I want to go home.

This is not my home.

This is not my bed.

This is not my room

Heck, these don’t even feel like my shoes.

My shoes were white.


These grey, tattered things used to be

My white shoes.

They guided me through my streets and helped me on my way home.


They were the only ones to who stuck with me.

Over the past few months, they were the one to lift me off my feet,

Mile after mile, step after step, coaxing me to keep going.


They used to be my dad’s.

I can’t see him anymore.

He told my shoes and I to go on a journey.

“They’ll help you find what you’re looking for”, his lips spoke

“What exactly am I looking for?”

“Hope”, his grey eyes replied.

“Don’t come back until you taste the sauerkraut”, my mom sweetened.

That was the last time my ears ever meet his voice, my mum’s too.


My sis and her shoes journeyed off with me.

Hers were white.

We journeyed to lands far and wide.

My shoes and my whole back’s worth.

My shoes first took me out of the dessert.

Through sand, au bade, and legged hump,

They carried, white.

Never again to ride the humps of the dessert

Or taste the heat of our land again.



Not another one who’s been as loyal to me as my shoes.

They steered me to the sea where the buoyant hope laid.

Fighting the day and night, they escorted me to the water unblemished.

They were still white.

My shoes and I were awfully crowded.

Packed so tightly, him and I were constantly fighting for air

Back’s worth given to the sea,

I was grateful that my shoes weren’t.

Through each sun, my shoes and I closer and closer.

Each ocean blow made them dance with longing.

In night, we could see our fortune greeting us from the pale sand.

My shoes propelled me there in the dark.

There was no other way.

The ocean’s dark blue never managed to stain their white.

My sister’s shoes didn’t make it to silvery dirt.

Her feet were still in them.

They turned grey in the swells of the blue tide.


Together through new sand,

We hiked.

Like Achilles, they battled through wire.

The coil made them tear.

Like Methodius, they deciphered the Bulkans’ labyrinth.

The mountains made them wear.

My lips could almost, but not quite yet,

Taste the Sauerkraut.


Cloaking beside roads, my shoes became muddy.

Dreaming in fields, my shoes became smelly.

Mounting on tracks, they became torn.

They still shined white.


My shoes did most of the work for me.

They told my feet exactly where to go.

My shoes were smarter than everyone else’s

They knew exactly where to squeeze through

And which fences to glide under.

After a forever of going through wood and thorns, they got dirty.

But they were still white.


My shoes flew me to the souls that were nice enough to give me food.

My shoes showed me the warm patches of grass out of view from the searching eyes.

As we walked till the night was replaced by day,

They were white.


It wasn’t until my shoes started carrying deeper into the wilderness where I was sent,

That my shoes found it harder and harder to carry on.

They couldn’t find any more willing blankets,

Any more loving mouths,

Any more giving hands.

They tried their hardest I could tell,

They tussled till their bottoms wore.


They never stopped looking.

Over hills and mountains,

Pleading from door to door,

Nor did they surrender.

But after awhile more of this, my shoes turned grey.

There was just no more that they could find.


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