In the corner of each cage was In the back of every door was The key to every lock never made and nothing more- Pam Polkioff, “Ode on a Tomb,”Samuel J. Tilden High School, May 5, 1961.

Lament Who, when they were young, worked hard all day, Gave the chickens corn and the horses hay? Who milked the cows and plowed the ground, And never uttered a cheerless sound? My parents. Who says I complain when work is calling, That all I'm good for is only stalling? And who can crush my weekends depicted, With two little words like: "You're restricted!" My parents. And when they go out and I'm left alone, And I spend all my time on the telephone, Who forgot the key and was trying to call? Who was locked out and stormy about it all? My parents.. And who thinks that I am still about eight, And should not be allowed to remain out late? Once I came tiptoeing in at three- Guess who was up and waiting for me! My parents. But when troubles are heavy and joys are few, When all seems false and nothing seems true, When all is cloudy and nothing is clear, Who comes around with comfort and cheer? Nobody. Mary Wickman, “Lament,” Fort Hamilton High School, June 6, 1958.

No Return That which a year ago imparted joy And sang me music of content- Today must with my lonely thoughts destroy All memories within the tenement Of Love... There is no turning back, no way Of entering the sacred past- to stay. Alas, I must pay court to Life, and clmb The rueful hill that beckons me. All pathways of return are blocked by Time, And I must faced the mockery Of judgement of the future, far above The earth, and lose upon the trail- my love. Katherine Carasso, “No Return,” Girls’ High School, October 28, 1938.

God of Death Open your eyes O divine one, Let in your purple haze, Let die your "innocent." Evil has your illness been, To tempt the minds of men. I am your lowest insect of wingless virtue, Eat forth upon my person And wash my inner being. Soft, Soft are your efforts to expose me to your torments, For they are the answers to liffe Lisa Labonne, "God of Death," Bushwick High School, June 1974

Ode to- (Could it Be We?) My parents told me not to smoke- I don't. Or listen to a naughty joke- I don't. They made it clear I must not look At handsome boys, or even think About intoxicating drink- I don't. To dance or flirt is very wrong- I don't. Wild maidens like men, wine, annd song- I don't. I kiss no boys, not even one. I don't even know how it's donne. You wouldn't think I have much fun I don't. Anonymous, “Ode To-(Could It Be We?),” Girls’ High School, March 8, 1939.

Eli Whitney was her selection, And Annie was a student of perfection. She wanted Beauty Culture as a career, And made it known in her second year. Her friends came by the hundred fold, And she was liked by both young and old. Through all her giving, she gained fame, That everyone here knew her by name. She wanted to return so much to school, But doctors' orders were a stricter rule. But I am sure she is happy now, For she is in Heaven, with God so proud. to have this pure and beautiful flower, Which he gently took in that early hour. For she was too good to live on earth, He knew this from her very birth. So think you both, mother and dad, Of the perfect gift you were chosen to have. Pat Mikaluinas, A tribute to student Ann Langone, Eli Whitney Vocational High School, January 1965.