The Love Face 
Jasmine Emokpae / Age 9
2019 Richland Library | Columbia, SC
CONTRIBUTORS Emokpae, Jasmine Morgan, Jesse
Cover Title Page
Arroyo, Shekina
19
Bilovsky, Zoya
20
Jenkins, Kamryn
2
Lockard, Elle
21
Chen, Kaylee
3
Hedges, Ella
22
Butcher, Wyatt
4
Geisbert, Caleb
23
Sawicki, John
4
Broughton, Lydea
24
Venn, Clare
5
Weinberg, Zola
25
Williams, Kai
6
Skinner, Linus
26
Evans, Grayson
7
Weinkle, Adena
27
Turner, Hazel
8
Ndubuisi, Milka
28
Chen, Lauren
9
Brown, Lucia
29
Hargrove, Laniya
9
Robertson, Ariah
30
Livengood, Evan
10
Hileman, Cailyn
31
Anonymous
11
Miller, Brant
32
McBrayer-Donath, Jubilee
12
Peterson-Griffin, Jacob
33
Sbardella, Rosemarie
13
Lewis, Garrett
34
Ndubuisi, Danka
13
Johansson, Isla
35
David, Addison
14
Stevick-Brown, Calvin
36
Wachtel, Sophie
15
Allen, Jonathan
37
Ndubuisi, Slawka
15
Clarkson, Elizabeth
38
Stuart, Audrey
16
Dunlap, Alice
38
Anderson, Kelsey
16
Hedges, Anna
39
Kisner-Drennan, Lucy
17
Maas, Cullen
40
Ndubuisi, Izajasz
18
Broughton, Sadee
Back Interior
Mirosavich, Nathan
18
Richardson, Lucas
Back Cover
Simmons, Taliah
18
Hey Look Ma, I Mazed It 
Jesse Morgan / Age 17
2019
Processing the Panic of Your First Open Mic Trying to remember the beginning of a song you know so well, riding the midnight bus through the broken city streets. Mist rises from the forgotten dreams of souls who lost themselves on metro maps. And you inhale. Hoping that breathing in their happy shadows won’t blacken your lungs but slow your racing heart. Hands shake as they run over the creases on the over-folded paper. Notebooks filled with your words that you can’t seem to remember, for the lines flow faster than sand slipping through hands, shuffle in your bag. It’s too cold outside to leak anxious liquid from your pores so you shiver instead. Trying to fend off the cold that wraps its way around every one of your fingers and toes. Focus! Find yourself. Don’t get lost in the pages of rages and rants. Let your poetic notions seep into your motions and let’s go. Pause and look up find eyes of the awed audience, let that be your motivation, an invitation for you to push on. Now rise and hesitate no longer, the mic is yours, the stage your canvas and words your brush. Leave your mark in ways only you can.
Kamryn Jenkins / Age 17
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feathers on the water here’s what they don’t tell you: icarus was laughing as he fell. his wings spiraled apart, feather by feather, and some who looked up might say he looked like a fallen angel. he welcomed the wax that dripped on his feet and sizzled into the ocean below, embraced the burning sensation of open air and filled lungs. he looked into the sun and enjoyed being blind to the world around him. everything was bright, sharp, beautiful, and in that instant he knew what it felt like to live as he plummeted and the wind whistled by his ears like a long-forgotten tune, he closed his eyes and said his goodbyes to the world that never loved him, to the people he would never know, to his father. yes, his father did not catch him because he heard his son’s laughter and knew that icarus wanted to die smiling.
Kaylee Chen / Age 13
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Majesty
Wyatt Butcher / Age 14
Family Harvest My grandfather and I go out to the field. It is really hot, dusty and dry out on the field. We feed the horses, empty the baler and oil it. We crank up the baler and start working. We take a break for lunch and come back. We keep going until dark. We’ll do it again tomorrow and each day for the next two weeks. Then comes winter and our work is done until next year. I do this so I can be with my grandfather while I still can.
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John Sawicki / Age 11
Dress Shoes after Tess Gallagher She found it when she was cleaning the closet -- a pair of men’s dress shoes. They were covered in dust. They used to be shiny and black, now only faded gray from years of lying there. The laces still tied in a bow, a loop and a bunny running around the tree. The wind whistles through the shutters outside. She thought about the planes and the two buildings crashing together, a boulder on her father’s chest, and him falling from the top of the second building. He hit the ground with the boulder still on his chest. The ambulances wailed. People screamed. People jumped. Families cried and huddled together. They couldn’t save him in time.
Clare Venn / Age 11
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on turning sixteen It’s not something that necessarily scares me, but it’s terrifying. when I mention it to my parents, they shudder at the word and try to hold me in their arms. Am I wrong for wanting to grow one year older? I spend more time in the future than I do in the present. but if my head is in the clouds, I’ll miss out on the things around me. that doesn’t sound like a bad idea. When I was younger, I could skip and run down the sidewalk my friends and resident partners-in-crime trailing closely behind. little black converse hitting the concrete never wishing to reach the end. At six, I was a princess, ruler of a kingdom full of loyal subjects. eight, fashion designer, terrified of the lightning outside the classroom. It wasn’t that long ago that I spent every summer afternoon on the street watching the different shades of pink and red. as much as I want to grow up, moving backward would be just as good. I’ll get my old pink bike training wheels still attached, and drive until the sky becomes the ground and I’ll bring my friends with me and we’ll run along the sidewalk hoping it never ends.
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Kai Williams / Age 15
Contemplating
Grayson Evans / Age 17
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Diagnosis I’ve just woken up. Tomorrow is school. Monday. I look at the clock. It’s 2:13 am. I have to go to the bathroom so bad. I’m just glad I didn’t wet the bed. I go. I get back to bed. But this happens six more times that night. I’m so scared. I have no idea what is wrong with me. I go back to sleep anyway. I wake up for school. I don’t wear a dress to school because I have PE. I love PE! “Time for PE!” my teacher says. I gulp down some water. “Can I go to the bathroom?” I say. She nods. I go. At PE we do push-ups. Except me. I cry. I am in trouble. I am never in trouble. Coach thinks I’m not trying. I just can’t. I’m not strong enough. Back at class, I go to the bathroom. Fifth time that day. I fill my water bottle too. Third time. My water bottle holds twelve ounces. All this drinking and peeing a lot goes on. And on. Wednesday night I tell my mom. Together we talk. Then I remember something. A YouTube video about a girl with a type 1 diabetes diagnosis. “Mom! Look up type 1 diabetes symptoms!” We read the list. I almost cry: 1. Frequent drinking and urination 2. Weakness 3. Increased appetite 4. Tiredness 5. Dry mouth 6. Weight loss I have them all. I go to bed anyway. I’m at school. Music. The office calls me for early dismissal. My mom explains I’m going to the doctor. It’s not a checkup. “Drink your water. They’re going to do a urine test.” I drink it all in the car before we’re even off school grounds. My mom tries to hide it, but I can tell she is worried. At the doctor’s office they do the urine test. They explain my urine has a dangerous amount of sugar in it. Next is my blood test. My blood sugar is 392. It is supposed to be around 100. They call the hospital. Not 911, but the hospital. No beds are available. I will have to stay in the emergency room until someone gets discharged. Next I go to the hospital. I stay for two days. First day I am sick and vomiting. The next day I go to the hospital game room until I get discharged. I can’t go home until my blood sugar is normal again. This is all happening because I have type 1 diabetes. There is no cure. I prick my finger about eight times a day to make sure my blood sugar is normal. After each meal I take insulin shots. I was diagnosed at eight years old. Now I’m nine. That YouTube video I watched helped save my life. I know the chances are slim, but I hope this will do the same for someone else.
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Hazel Turner / Age 9
what do you know of hope? there are days when my shoulders ache with bowing, when it is hard to cast my eyes forward instead of down and move my feet when I only wish to fall. now that ache is a constant weight, my eyes always on the dirt beneath me, my feet stuck to the ground like plants sending their roots deep deep deep down. it could be what you call a miracle that I bother to keep standing. but with every beat of my heart, every pulse against those chains that bind it down, I move. I try.
Rain Drops
Lauren Chen / Age 15
I reach down deep inside and pull out strength that can only come from stone— from weathering against frozen winds until your edges are rough and you have learned the ways of hope, hope that sings inside you and makes you think I can brave another wind. you might ask what does a fifteen-year-old girl know of hope? but I know. I know of a gaze tilted straight ahead, another step forward, and butterfly wings on a lilting breeze after a storm.
Laniya Hargrove / Age 8
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Self-Portrait
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Evan Livengood / Age 11
Untitled
Anonymous
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Rebelling for Dummies 1 Create an Army First, to start a rebellion you must notify the governor/mayor/president that you wish to rebel against him/her by throwing plastic daggers in the air and melting them in a bonfire in front of the White House/governor’s mansion. Then you run like crazy for he/she will have noticed your rebellious call and will have sent guards after you. Once you get to a safe place, start gathering your army. It would be very effective to put up neon pink posters asking for followers. Also, put a picture of one of the posters on Facebook. You will immediately have almost 80 followers. Hopefully, your rebellion will have reached the attention of several other people and you will have an army! 2 What to do with an Army With an army there are several choices: You could have a protest and hold signs, or you can get the governor’s/mayor’s/president’s attention by doing jumping jacks in neon green tee shirts with purple lettering saying “No! We rebel against your unjust ways!” Also, purple baseball caps would help. Then arrange the purple and green crowd so they form a fist and with the help of a drone, record a video and send it to the person you wish to rebel against. Play it at high speeds along with a tape of you and your army saying “NO NO NO NO NO NO...” You can annoy them to death. It works every time.
Jubilee McBrayer-Donath / Age 10
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My Opinion (at least) v. 1 How fine it is To be the loser— To go home early from a tournament. To drink some tea, and watch TV— It’s hardly to your detriment. If people ask how you got bashed Recall the facts and tell them that: You tried that day, and so Hooray! You aren’t denied the sun’s soft rays, For having let a winner pass. And to the best–dears, get some rest Old Tomorrow holds another test.
Rosemarie Sbardella / Age 16
v. 2 How fine it is! To be the loser— To go home early from a tournament. To drink some tea, and watch TV— It’s hardly to your detriment, If people praise how you got razed— Offer them this for their assent You tried that day, and so Hooray! You aren’t denied the sun’s soft rays, In failing to your fine opponent. And for those who win, Do so again! And never stop until— The end.
Abandoned
Danka Ndubuisi / Age 12
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Puppy
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Addison David / Age 11
Twins You don’t get your own room. You have to share all the time. Even the cat. Even a birthday! It’s horrible. But sometimes it’s good. Because you always have someone to play with.
Sophie Wachtel / Age 8
She and I
Slawka Ndubuisi / Age 14
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The Rainbow Problem
Audrey Stuart / Age 7
One day, all the colors were bored. They had been squished together for so long. Then Red said, “I’m the best!” Orange said, “No you’re not! You’re just trying to make trouble. You’re too hot. It’s time for you to cool down.” Then Yellow said to Orange, “Stop fighting!” Green said in a calming voice, “Yellow, you think so much about yourself. You’re too bright. Calm down.” Blue said in a very sassy voice to Green, “You’re too grassy! I don’t like you.” Purple said, “Hey, stop being so blue!” But then Blue said, “Purple, you’re too girly.” All the colors started arguing at the same time. Suddenly, Purple said, “Settle down! We’re all great colors…. I know! Let’s go play with the clouds.” The End (of the rainbow)
Unicorn Dreams
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Kelsey Anderson / Age 8
Hoo’s There
Lucy Kisner-Drennan / Age 10
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Raptors
Izajasz Ndubuisi / Age 9
Raptors are deadly and smart. I like them so much that my eyes pop out of my head when I see them. I don’t like that raptors are so dangerous. It’s too bad I can’t have them for a pet.
Spino Nathan Mirosavich / Age 6
Animals that Rock (original song)
Taliah Simmons / Age 7
We’re animals that rock. We sing on top of a rock. Our lead singer has chicken pox. We sing on a boat. We hope it floats. Our paper boat. We are rockin’ rodents. Put us to the test. We promise we can pass the rock and roll test. We sing on a rock with a fox. We rock, rock, rock. We got to the top of the mountain. And sang a song to a fountain. We are, we are rockin’ rodents. We are, oh yes, we are rockin’ rodents! 18 | Kids in Print 2019 Oh snap!
The Tiger
Shekina Arroyo / Age 12
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My Sweet Cat Suzy
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Zoya Bilovsky / Age 10
Mr. Invisible
Elle Lockard / Age 11
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Toucan
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Ella Hedges / Age 11
The Taco Titan 2
Caleb Geisbert / Age 11
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Rat Thor
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Lydea Broughton / Age 10
Out of This World
Zola Weinberg / Age 10
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Great White
Linus Skinner / Age 11
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Correspondence from a Turkey Dear Farmer Jane, Here are some reasons why you wicked humans should not eat me (by the way, this does not mean you should eat anyone else): Last year, my grandpa Joe wrote to you and instead of eating him, you ate my aunt! We miss her so much. Uncle Peter won’t even say hi to us anymore. You should not eat me because I am a living thing. I have friends and family just like you. Plus, I am only a child. How do you think my poor parents would feel if you ate me? I have a whole life to live. Another reason why you should not eat me is that I am sick! I have a fever. I got a cold from the wind. And I am hallucinating. Oh look, a unicorn! And my last reason— it’s Thanksgiving. Thanksgiving is an excellent time for parties, not funerals. Thanksgiving is about thanks, not murder. You should be saying thanks to us because we eat all the bugs. And those ladybugs—they may be called ladybugs but boy, do they need manners! I am positive that now that you have read this letter you won’t eat me or my family. Maybe this year you could eat chicken. Boy, those chickens look wonderful. Or you could just order take out from Moe’s. Sincerely, Merry Berry PS—And please whatever you do not hire an exterminator! We love bugs.
Adena Weinkle / Age 10
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Mountains They cover the sky Snowcapped giants in the morning Silently watching The world go by.
Milka Ndubuisi / Age 14
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For Scale
Lucia Brown / Age 16
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Frozen in Time
Ariah Robertson / Age 13
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Man in the Moon
Cailyn Hileman / Age 18
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Alarm silent soft peaceful quiet gentle sleepbeep beep beep beep ignore that go back to silent gentle soft sleep Beep Beep Beep Beep Silent Sleep Soft Sleep BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP SLEEP SLEEP SLEEP SLEEP Sitting up, standing, stumbling to the infernal machine, tearing out the plug, stumbling back to bed, just to get some sleeeeeeeeeeeeep
Brant Miller / Age 14
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Untitled Gena clicked some gears into place as she clasped a lid over her creation. It was a metal book with gears jutting from the spine. She jabbed a key into the keyhole on the cover. She turned it slightly and the gears in the spine turned. The book flipped open, revealing a mass of multicolored gears turning to form pictures. A knight leaped over a grassy hill and unsheathed his sword. A dragon came into view and a blast of fire covered the screen. When the smoke faded, the knight was standing on the dragon’s corpse. The pictures stopped and the book closed. “Good job, Sissy!” Her little brother, Sam, said. Gena took a yellow ribbon out of her apron and pulled back her copper hair. She saw her reflection in the cover of the book. She had strange blue eyes. Her irises were shaped like big blue gears, an odd deformity. She had tan skin. She was wearing a bronze-colored dress, tied tight against her body by her stained apron. She took up the book and placed it up high on a shelf on the wall. Sam clapped his hands. “Make more! Make more!” He chanted. “What do you want me to make?” Gena said. She bent down to wipe a smudge off of his cheek with her hankie. “Birdie!” Sam cheered, waving his hands around. Gena sat down on her chair and began to work.
Jacob Peterson-Griffin / Age 13
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To Learn Fortune comes to thee who truly sees the world, The world for what it is, And the world for what it’s told. Fortune comes to thee who seeks to comprehend, To understand not one’s self, But those who work to tend. Peace comes to thee who seeks to truly learn, To learn the failures of others, And whatever they discern. Purpose comes to thee who looks to sacrifice, To sacrifice not for himself, But to end other’s strife. From the heart of Baucis and Philemon, There is something we should learn, Not to see what we have, But what we have earned.
Garrett Lewis / Age 14
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Benjamin Franklin
Isla Johansson / Age 7
I helped write the Constitution of the United States. I proved that lightning was electricity. I flew a kite with a metal rod and when the lighting hit, a spark went into my hand. I went to France and helped convince people to fight for America’s freedom. I am a famous American because I was a writer, inventor and scientist. I am very remembered.
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Edisto Crab at Sunset
Calvin Stevick-Brown / Age 13
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Lighthouse in Pastels
Jonathan Allen / Age 13
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Who am I? Who am I on the inside where do I go I don’t know where I should be who am I really Who am I this world drives me mad Who should I be who is me
Lady with Braids
Who am I am I the same person through and through Who am I?
Elizabeth Clarkson / Age 11
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Alice Dunlap / Age 13
Empty Page I sit here in my hammock swing, pencil poised to write. My pencil is sharpened to a fine point; my folder is full of blank pages. Time stops. Nothing is heard but the early evening crickets and my own even breathing. Everything is waiting. Waiting. Waiting. Waiting for that stroke of genius, that spark of creativity to make the gears of my brain start whirring and my pencil fly across the page. The moment I have been waiting for all of my fourteen years. A minute passes. Then another. I stare at the blue-and-white woven string of my hammock chair, searching for the inspiration to create a story, a moment, a feeling, that can be as intricately woven as those blue-and-white strings. Drawing any reader into a maze of my own thoughts, my own ideas, my own feelings, which seem so full of confusion in themselves not even I can untangle their threads. Maybe a tale of knights and dragons, princesses and evil witches, kings, outlaws, princes, wizards, beasts, sorcerers and magic! Everything I have ever dreamed to myself. But the crickets’ hum grows impatient. My breathing comes in shorter gasps. Still waiting. Waiting. Waiting. As I stare at the empty page.
Anna Hedges / Age 14
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Playing Every time before a game I think to myself: Even though I am only 10 years old, I must play like a professional soccer player. Even then, I am worried. I start off not playing well. I hear my mom, dad, sister, and grandparents cheering me on. At half-time, I give myself a pep talk. Come on, Cullen. You can do better than that. After half-time, I go to the striker. I make a plan. Get the ball and score. Get the ball and score. Get the ball and score. I wait for my mid-fielders to get the ball and pass it up to me. They do. I panic. No! My thoughts change. I must go to the goal. I must score. The goal seems miles away. I must keep going. Past one person, past another. I must score. I come up to the goal. Just the goal keeper to beat. I shoot. Right past the goal keeper, flying through the air like a rocket. I score.
Cullen Maas / Age 10
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Homework
Sadee Broughton / Age 12
Untitled Lucas Richardson / Age 18
Many people made this edition of Kids in Print possible and we each worked hard to make this publication the best yet. Families, teachers and school staff / Richland Library Youth Services Staff / Jewel Edwards Darion McCloud / Bonita Peeples / Marketing and Digital Strategies / Programs and Partnerships Richland Library Sandhills Kids In Print Selection Committee Emily Johansson / Heather McCue / Jennifer Naimzadeh / The Children’s Room / Teen Center