Live From The Chocolate Wars by John Grey

in

It is an army at rest.
A brown army camped inside a box.
Its disguise is more clever
for being no disguise.
Its pineapple shape
conceals a pineapple,
its strawberry, a strawberry.
Years ago, its predecessors
declared war on my thin waistline.
Based on that success,
it' s been sending reinforcements ever since.
No longer cheap supermarket brands however.
These latest troops are Swiss and German.
And no need to inarch, to attack my flanks.
They merely tempt from brightly colored camps
The battle is furious but brief.
Unlike all other wars,
the victors are no longer,
the vanquished survives.
Also, the lands of the conquered
are not taken from him.
In fact, they expand a little
with every loss.

by John Grey, Johnston RI, <jgrey10233@aol.com>      

                                                                             

A Chocolate Story by Kase

 

Since I was nine at the time this story takes place, my friends and I didn’t know what we were doing was wrong.  Please forgive us.  So one time at a summer daycare my friends and I found a chocolate bar.  The bathroom was a one-stall bathroom and was secluded from the lunch monitors.  My friend took the bar out of its wrapper and rolled it in his hands to look like poop.  He then went and placed it in the bathroom.  After lunch, the owner of the daycare walked in there and found the chocolate bar poop, and a random kid got in trouble—not my friends and me.  The random kid got suspended for three days.  I haven’t been at that daycare since that summer.  Now I will never look at chocolate moon bars again.

Chocolate Theft by Chance

 

I was sitting on the couch, and I decided to get some chocolate.  My mom called me up to do something, and I did it.  I went back to the couch, and I was about to open the wrapper, and then my dad called me.  I did what he wanted me to do, and then I went back to the couch, and my chocolate was gone.  I went to my brother’s room and asked him, “Did you eat my chocolate?” and he said, “No.”  Then I went to my sister’s room and I saw my wrapper on the floor.  I found out my sister ate it, and I was mad, because that was the last chocolate we had.  She gave me a dollar and we were fine after that.

The Chocolate Attack by Grace

 

                I was two years old and my dad just walked in the door from work. It felt like it had been days since the last time I saw him. I turned around and started to run towards him. What I didn't know was my dog, Bella, a chocolate lab, was just as excited as me.

I ran past the counter and was almost into his arms when I felt my feet come off the floor and I was flying through the air around and around. In her excitement Bella was spinning and picked me up by her tail as she was twirling. My mind was spinning and the five seconds I was in the air all I could think of was the hug I was going to get from my dad. My mom was screaming and my dad was trying to catch me as I was hurled across the room hitting face first into the refrigerator. Slowly, I slid down the side of the refrigerator. My hands, feet and cheeks plastered to the metal made a squeaking sound as I slid down like they do in cartoons. I hit the floor and lay there not able to catch my breath, choking on my tears.

My family ran over in shock, checking to make sure I was still conscious. I started to fill my lungs again with air. My chocolate lab was oblivious to the fact that she almost put me in the hospital. She licked my red cheek and was sent outside. To divert my attention from the pain, my parents gave me a piece of chocolate to savor. I had a huge knot on my head for a week but my family and I laugh about it still today. The 5 seconds I was in the air was too fast and shocking for me to remember, but I ask my parents to tell the story all the time.