Disclaimer-

I DO NOT OWN YJ. I own my OC's, a plot, but that's about it. And actually these poems do belong to me. I wrote my own poems and I'm actually pretty content with them.

Marie and Wally managed to dart into class only to be scolded.

"MARIE! How many times have you been told not to run in the hallways?" a strict looking woman scolded. "And YOU young man! What in the blazes are you doing?"

"Sorry Mrs. Carmello!" Marie said. "This is Wallace West. He's our new student."

"Oh well Mr. West," Mrs. Carmello said. "I don't tolerate trouble makers in my class room."

Wally muttered under his breath, "Then I'm screwed. Royally."

Marie smiled and squeezed his hand and said, "I'm showing him around 'mam."

"Wonderful. I'm glad to see you're starting to take charge Miss Marie," the woman muttered.

Her dark, greying, hair was pinned back into a bun. She looked old enough to be Wally's grandmother, but reminded Wally of a nun. Her dark eyes drifted between the two.

"Marie, sit by Mr. West. I want you to show him what we've been doing recently," Mrs. Carmello said. "Mr. West, we've been working on poetry. All sorts of different ones, limericks, haikus, and so forth. Right now we're on free verse poetry. I'd like you to see Marie's."

Marie sat down at her desk and Wally followed her. She pulled out some sheets of paper that Wally snapped up faster than she could blink. He looked at the first paper which was a free verse.

Soft breaths,

Soft touches,

Soft voices.

Hard breaths,

Hard touches,

Hard voices.

Who is the angel here?

The one who speaks

So soft for their own gain?

Or the one who speaks

Harshly, only wanting what's best for you?

Sometimes it's hard to decipher,

Who really cares?

Who really loves?

You and all of you.

So who do you trust?

The soft voice?

Or the harsh voice?

Soft and Harsh by Marie

His mouth was dipped a bit in a frown. Wally was in thought. Who do you trust? Not everyone who seems nice is nice. Just look at Marie! She didn't look like she could hurt a fly, and yet he'd watched her knock some kid over. You always had to be careful of the quiet ones. He looked at another poem.

Heart ache

Heart break

Never speak

Never weak

I never knew

Just who

You thought you were

Some things left unheard

Now I tell you goodbye

Drowning myself in a nursery rhyme

Untitled by Marie

Wally let out a low whistle. He looked at her and said, "I like this one…tad bit unhappy, but it's good."

Marie blushed and said, "We're doing free verse. You've seen some of mine. Why don't you attempt one?"

Wally groaned, but he picked up a pencil and started to write.

I like to move.

I like to move fast.

I like to move faster than fast.

I want to move faster than a horse.

I want to move faster than a train.

I want to move faster than a bullet.

I want to move faster than lightning.

I'll keep moving until I get there.

I won't stop,

No matter how stupid it sounds,

For I'm the fastest kid alive.

Marie looked at it and asked, "Fan of Kid Flash? That's what it sounds like. Or would you rather be Kid Flash out on the streets than Wally West sitting in a class?"

Wally blushed and said, "Being Kid Flash would be awesome. I like fast moving things…I wanna go fast!"

Marie smiled and wrote:

I like to sing.

I like to hear the birds sing.

I like to mimic the birds singing.

I want to sing like a sparrow.

I want to sing like a canary.

I want to sing like a knighting gale.

I want to sing like a mourning dove.

I'll keep singing until I can.

It's a goal,

That I can reach,

For I can act like anything.

Wally grinned at her and said, "I like your poetry."

"You're not half bad," she responded. "Now we get to write for the next 27 minutes."

Wally groaned and tapped his pencil impatiently.

Patience

It is the key

If you want to succeed

Have a little patience

You know

We could probably communicate

In this manner

And no one

Would mind really

It still is

Free-verse poetry

Wally read over it and smiled at Marie. So that's what they did. They wrote poems back and forth to each other. By the end of class Wally knew a lot more about Marie. She liked the colors, blue, red, purple, and green. She didn't like to eat fish, and she has a thing for animals. Wally had focused the conversation on her, half afraid that if he said anything he'd give away his secret identity. Little did he know that Marie already knew.