by Jaclyn Thompson, news editor

Goosebumps flood all over my body
As the cold air rubs against my skin
In sight I see nobody
Coldblooded, I become as my arm turns to a fin

Searching for the light
Trying to hear the birds sing
Trying with all my might
When the sun comes we have to cling

Hold on to the warm air
Take a few deep breathes
Sit by the ocean with no cares
As the trees come alive from death

Running around outside
But technology makes the world collide

The light in the sky comes out to play
But kids are playing on their phones
They don’t care about the birds in the early day
All they care about is their ringtone

We hope for warm weather
We wish for the sun
But when it comes down to it
Our phones are more fun

The waves are moving faster
You can almost hear it beg
“Come play in me master”
Too lazy to move a leg

The cold breeze was sent away
Like the generation should do with their phones
I hope for it to happen one day
Before nature leaves us alone

The cold air brushes against me
The way I brush off the world around me