The Raider Wire

The defeat of Icarus comes from the natural hubris of man, which poisons my healing from time to time. Painting by Clare Henry McCanna.

Call Me Icarus

Emma Simmons, Sports Editor October 26, 2021

I don my wings with hope to take flight and leave This prison cell has stripped my mind bare Haunted notions hold my soul hostage They break my back and keep me there   But salted skies...

This is a small collection of haikus. Photos from Canva.

A Small Collection of Haikus

Imogene Ragan, Staff Writer February 18, 2021

Flowers So many colors Scattered around the Earth Mother Nature’s art   Winning Cheering all around Holding a shiny medal It is like a dream   Puppies Tiny balls...

A bundle of roses.

“ok”

Sydney Jarrard, Staff Writer December 15, 2020

i’m not wanting to ruin this relationship  and i’m not wanting to cut you off but how can you expect me to be content in this friendship? when you know what i want, but continue to ignore...

Our minds must evolve as society progresses, or we are doomed as a species.

Evolutions

Emma Simmons, News/Sports Editor September 29, 2020

Every evolution is a revolution of the brain Voices morph together, collective volume of the strain Offer up our hands, constructed through the construct of time Like fractured pieces of prehistoric...

It Was All Pretend

Jamie Cabezas, Staff Writer December 16, 2019

Full of hardships, and misfortunes, It's hard just to face It shouldn't even matter but the memories are hard to erase   Our friendship became a disaster Everything I knew is gone You’ve...

Love doesnt exist the way you think it does.

Foolish Girl

Jen Vincent, Staff Writer November 22, 2019

It has been in front of you your whole life.  Love doesn't exist the way you think it does.  Foolish girl,  You’re killing yourself over things like friendship.  You’re just a foolish...

: Poet, Erin Dickman, Throws her notebook in a bout of artistic frustration. Coming up with the right rhyme is hard work.

Limericks: A Lost Art

Samuel Perryman, Prose Editor May 8, 2015

There once was a poet named Fred Who thought, “All the great poets are dead.” So with his own knife, He took his own life, And now all his poems are read.   John Smith was a...

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