The Jimmy Story

We’ve all experienced depression, but hopefully not to the degree that Jimmy did in this important poem by Pocahontas County High School senior Jonathan Valido. He bravely gave a live performance of the poem at our local opera house to help spread the word about why bullying is bad, and I am only passing it along to add momentum to his important message.

The Jimmy Story

By Jonathan Valido

 Hi, my name is Jimmy.
The kids at school like to hit me.
I thought my cool life had hid me,
But if only they didn't threaten me:

Their words cut like a knife,
They make me hate my life.
I am paying the price,
But still don’t get get nothing nice.

What's the point of living life,
If kids are punching you and shaking you with a knife?
What's the point of going to school,
Getting bad grades, and trying to be cool?

It's not working and I don't get why;
I live so dangerously and barely get by.
I pray to God but don't think he's listening
It might be just cause my soul isn't glistening

So this is my suicide song
And if you are reading it then I am already gone. 
So, you see, please don't do what those l kids did to me:
It’s not easy living if you are me. 

So here I go, I'm about to die,
Mom, see you, love you, and goodbye.
Jonathan Valido Heroically performs his poem, “The Jimmy Story.”

Jimmy’s Lesson

Here is another poem that I wrote in 10th grade. I wrote it for a recycling-themed competition sponsored by the West Virginia Recycling Coalition, and it won first place ( ). It is about why recycling is good and a necessary tool to preserve our existence. I have tweaked it slightly, but only to improve the grammar and not to add content. I hope you enjoy it and please let me know what you think!

Jimmy’s Lesson

Gather ’round the homely hearth,
Join me in story and mirth.
Let’s learn to conserve our Earth,
The way she’s done since our birth.

Many modern things cater our comforts:
Cans, crates, signs, scissors, exports and imports.
Everything flows from Mother Earth’s flesh;
This Jimmy understood not, young and fresh.

Awoke he one morn, plunder in his eyes.
He manufactured everything, every size.
Soon only humans littered garbage heaps:
Naught but Jimmy remained on barren steeps.

An idea slept, woke; for joy he leapt!
Recycling! Life began, back it crept.
He realized all resources remain,
for reuse; it starts a reaction chain!

Let’s learn from Jimmy: there’s only so much,
Life may be wrought or reaved by human touch.
Much product is poison if cast away,
If we don’t recycle, we’ll have to pray.

Acacia and Her Ants

Here is a nature poem that I wrote in 10th grade for a poetry contest that turned out to be a possible scam. I have extensively updated and revised it so that only stanzas 2,3,6, and 9 are mostly of the original poem; all the rest I recently added. I was inspired to write this nature poem after reading about the incredible symbiosis between acacia trees and acacia ants. I hope you enjoy it, and let me know what you think!

Acacia and Her Ants

Across the Savannah looms Elephant;
Lumbers towards her, flexing his deadly trunk;
Intends to tear from her trunk, chunk by chunk,
Make her, proud Acacia, a sycophant.

The vigils of her thorns, each a slim, sharp knife,
Her solid, strong branches, her tough woody bark:
All nothing, to Elephant she is stark!
If not for Ants, he’d steal her leaves and life.

Ants are Acacia’s loyal regiment,
Crooked, comely, small; drawn by cause greater:
To guard Acacia, Ants’ Alma Mater.
From her flows food, fueling their sentiment.

“Snap!”, the trunk coils and strikes like a snake,
Sends tremors of torment trem’bling through her,
Arouses Ants’ alacritous nature,
Assembles armies for Acacia’s sake.

Tracking the tremors, Ant’s swarm to attack,
Mandibles mauling hungry gray mountain.
A million minuscule munches’ rain,
Not in vain, drives El’phant, though not slain, back!

Quitting her nectaries, home Ants crawl to,
Ent’ring her homely thorn hollows, now calm.
Full-bellied resting, quelling ev’ry qualm,
Rejuvenates her Cryptozoic crew.

Acacia allures ants and elephants,
The latter by nature, the former by need.
But, unbeknownst to her, both she must feed:
Without Elephant’s worry, she would wean Ants.

Needing nectar, Ants abscond: empty homes,
Ants afar, attract atrocious tenants:
Gracilis ferrugineus supplants.
Acacia, sans Ants, to gruesome gloams roams.

Harmoniously they serve each other,
Ants are children, Acacia is mother.
Wond’rous ’twas how they were brought together,
We’ll only know when free from mortal tether.

An acacia ant resting on a hollow acacia thorn
An acacia ant at the doorway to its thorny yet comfortable home. Photograph by Alexander Wild.