Real Is by Kaylie Chang {Inklings Book Contest 2024 Finalist}

Today, we are featuring Inklings Book Contest 2024 finalist Kaylie Chang! She finished 5th grade this past school year and wrote a poignant poem called “Real Is”. Our judges loved the vivid imagery and word choice throughout the poem. Continue below to enjoy it in digital book or plain text form.

Real is

The shadows that stalk my dreams at night while I toss and

turn in bed, the stress,

the thoughts,

that only come to mind right then, trying to sleep at night

while waiting for worry to wind its way off.

Real is 

waiting for the world to turn, the incredible bore of

WHY WON’T THEY BE DONE ALREADY when I’ve nothing to fly about on and everyone else has vanished, stolen

from the 

face of the Earth for all eternity.

Real is

my little brother, playful as a 

little lion cub and 

annoying as the 

hidden roots 

in the forest.

Real is 

practicing, 

learning, 

the art of 

frying, baking, 

mixing, cutting, 

with Nai Nai or

Mommy or Daddy,

saying

it tastes

more

delicious

when

one knows the

effort that was made for it.

Real is 

sounds as 

luxurious to listen to as 

watching the

setting sun, sounds made by

instrument or voice.

Real is 

the sheer smashing wall of joy, exhilaration, 

as I

plunge into the

freezing depths of

the pool.

Real is 

summer camp on the hottest days 

studying a variety as wide as Earth, made for many,

keeping me

curious

always.

Real is 

the exhilarating 

feeling of

plunging into 

the depths of my mind,

finding something new

I have not

found before.

Real is 

watching the letters on printed page, 

colors,

pictures, 

to tell a tale

may it be 

of times long past, of story 

thought with one’s own mind,

a told myth of forgotten make,

story of now,

or our history.

Real is 

struggling

not to sleep, 

trying to think

of the great scaly winding

creatures,

high above our heads

even though they

might be 

only in the depths of our curious

imaginative minds.

Real is 

glee,

laughter

packaged in guffaws

found with friends, family, on a bright crisp day, 

with those 

always treasured 

above all.

Real is 

plucking herbs and plants 

from the earth 

with my family, smiling

as we prepare for dinner

under the hot summer sun,

watering,

pulling, 

talking,

twisting, plucking from the vine.

Real is 

cake soft as a silk blanket, 

delicious as 

a five-star restaurant, created irreplaceable 

by Nai Nai, for any event,

birthday, 

Christmas,

anything that

deserves a cake.

Real is 

thinking,

sketching,

outlining,

coloring while I wait 

in hope that one day

I can be someone I want to be.

Real is 

weaving words,

stringing letters

together 

to tell the story

of mystery,

of fantasy,

of magic,

onto the page, 

anywhere, everywhere,

for anyone, everyone,

for that is what real is.