Tegan Ford

Bio: My name is Tegan Ford, I am 15 years old, and I am from the United States. I enjoy writing in my free time and participating in clubs- one of which I created myself, with the hope of giving back to our local community, and even contributing to relief efforts across the globe. I am an avid student with a passion for fashion, film and literature, and hope to become a writer one day.

Editor’s note: Tegan has a light-yet-direct touch with her writing that really creates an impact! Her use of imagery and repetition create a clear and engaging voice that the reader can’t help but be swept away by. We think that a lot of young readers will be able to relate to Tegan’s poetry – we can’t wait for people to read it!


Mother Nature


Flowers grow in my ribcage

And though they smell so sweet

I wish they weren’t there

Because they don’t have a beat


There’s sunflowers on my windowsill

And dirt in my hair

But I am finally clean

Living without a care


There are daisies in my lungs

And my skin is covered in leaves

Even though I can’t feel anything

I think now I am finally free




I dreamed it was that summer

That one we spent by the beach

Where we soaked up the sun

And you looked like a hazy dream

My hand on your chest

And your hands on my skin

What I’d do

To go back again

We slipped into the water

And let the waves carry us home

How could we ever leave

And let the ocean be alone?

I dreamed we were there again

Laying against the sand

I look at the sparkling water

And ask if you want to take a dip

My visions getting blurry, I can hardly breathe

I’ll wake up to the taste of salt

The taste of you and me




I’m so tired

Staring with heavy eyes

I struggle through the day

And exhausting nights

Is it normal to feel this way

To feel so run down?

I try to do my best

But the pounding is so loud

I’ll take some medicine

And rest my eyes

But I can’t do that either

I’ve got to study tonight

I apologize to my friends

I can’t go out and party

If I do I’ll fail

And I have a test that Friday




Curls galore

And bright blue eyes

I can’t imagine my face being pretty

Because it’s mine

I got my nose from my aunts

My taste in fashion too

My skin is fair

And my hair is a golden hue

But I can’t imagine someone staring

Because I caught their eye

I know that same old smile;

I’ve had it since I was five

It’s the same old story

The same look every time

Won’t people get bored of it

If they stick around to long?

It hurts my head to think about it

But the thought’s never truly gone

It’s just me

Staring back in the mirror

They told me that maybe if

I looked at it differently

It would be clearer

But I still see the same things

Every day

So I’ll cut my hair

And try to change

But the truth is

No matter what I do

I’m still the same

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