The Eighth Page

Two poems by Ryan Yost

PAPS Phillips Academy Public Safety, you are the world to me. Maybe not everyone else thinks so, but I will make them see. You drive the white CR-V’s, up and down the road. When you hear, that there is trouble, you switch to killing mode. If a student forgets their keys, or breaks their precious arm. I know that you will be there, to keep them out of harm. And if a townie yells Cat Boner, from a speeding car. I know one thing’s for certain, they won’t get very far. When a microwave catches fire, or an electrical wire bursts. The fire department will be called, but you will get there first. So thanks for your dedication, and all that you have done. You’re like my overprotective mother, and I your troublesome son. Prefects A prefect is like an older sibling, with all their pros and cons. Some are really nice, and others Satan’s spawn They take a year, out of their life, and spend it with ninth graders. Some Uppers think it’s stupid, but they’re just player haters. A prefect has to follow the rules, and tell kids to do the same. But when he becomes a hypocrite, he must lower his head in shame. But there are some perks, To which a prefect is given. Like a really big room, And a ticket into heaven. When it comes down to it, Prefects are the best. They are good at almost everything, And are better than the rest.