Poppy is an 8th-grade student with a talent for turning words into powerful poetry. Whether she’s jotting down verses in her notebook during lunch or sharing her work in class, her poems capture deep emotions and vivid imagery. Inspired by music, nature, and everyday life, Poppy’s writing explores themes of friendship, dreams, and self-discovery. Her classmates admire her creativity, and her teachers encourage her to keep sharing her voice. With each poem, Poppy proves that words have the power to inspire, connect, and make the world a little more beautiful.

Check Out some of Poppy's poems here

A Lone Flower Grown in Coal

A flower grown in coal;

Daybreak after a miserable night,

Yet that flower, a datura, is a mere false hope.

Its sickly purple a striking contrast

To the empty black of its home.

But look further, deeper into its words;

They are one in the same.

The flower blooms despite its harsh environment,

Still desperate to live, to endure the hardship.

But what if it was different?

What if that flower was grown in soil instead?

Would it still be hateful? Hurting others to defend itself?

Or would that datura be a daisy?

A shining sun instead of the looming eclipse?

Realistically, the flower’s fate was already written.

It was doomed to hurt, the coal was only a factor.

The coal was harsh and unforgiving, making the flower wish to live;

But those seeds always held poison.

With that poison, it will kill those around it.

Putting the blame on itself, 

not knowing that not everyone can grow in the despair it thrived in.

The datura fought to live, enduring the harshness.

Its beauty is spiteful, a spiraling bloom.

Like the lure of an anglerfish shining in the deep dark.

A flower grown in coal,

Not knowing the nurture of soil.

Day and Night

A blazing flame covers the sky at dawn;

The sun has risen, making birds sing-

As clouds pass, through noon, the sun burns on and on,

Dares to burn bright, yet wants not to be seen;

Soon, far past noon, the light begins to fade.

The moon now rising, the land now serene.

Full or new, the path it seeks never strayed

The stars join the moon, no longer alone

A pale face in the sky, looking below

The cold wind blows cold, chilling to the bone

The northern lights cast an elegant glow.

The night remains tranquil, deathly silent,

The day soon to come, an endless tyrant.