Allsorts

It can jump
It can hop
It can BUMP! all it wants
It has a long tongue
For catching its food
It is an amphibian
It lives in water and land
It goes through metamorphosis
IT’S A FROG!!!

Wretched souls,
That is what we are
We are lone wolves,
Hiding so we are not seen,
Exiled, banished from where we belong,
Not wanted anywhere,
Fighting to stay alive,
Getting yelled at by loved ones.
Will my life get ANY better?
Should it? Could it? Will it? CAN it?
Do you REALLY think
That I am just a FREAK?
That I watch you sleep?
That I’m in too deep?
May you stop calling me names?
I mean no harm.
I’m not trying to hurt you,
I just want friends,
But you don’t have to be one of them.
I just wanted to be friends.
Am I really that BAD?
Do I make you feel MAD?
Are you like me?
Looking for a friend?
Kicked out from where you belong?
Are you like ME?

The hospital is filled with doctors,
And children feel like escaping in helicopters,
Kids get injections,
To get rid of those nasty infections,
Some kids get stickers,
Some get tears,
But at least they get rid of their fears,
Some get stitches and call those nice and kind nurses witches,
I personally like injections,
Kids call me weird,
But when they get injections,
They get all teared,
And that, is the hospital!

The cat sat on the mat
He was in a hat
Riding a rat
Went splat
He then had a chat
With a wombat

Cute
Awesome
Too sweet

Remembrance day is a time of year
When we remember those who fought in the war
Long times ago
And those who died on the battlefields
We wear poppies to remember them

One lone poppy sitting on a battlefield
Is thinking to itself,
Why in all the colours do I have to be red?
It resembles all the blood that has been bled.
Why am I on a desolate battlefield
Where all the fighting is to be dealt?
A last primal cry is all I hear,
As blood and death are always near.
A smouldering fire, a touch of heat,
A screaming cry, a sign of defeat.
The ‘Jerry’ will be there, dark and dim,
As the soldiers faces are always grim.
Why do I have to be on a grave?
Where fighters die, scared but brave.
Why? Why does the fighting never end,
As the dark war was starting to mend?
As the poppies sway and bow,
I will make a simple vow,
No poppy big or small,
Will stand here not rising tall.
We are not silly flowers,
Because we have great powers.
One lone poppy sitting in a battlefield,
Is finally not alone…

My sister always helps me,
I cannot live without her,
She started college,
To me, it’s as bland as porridge!

Somehow she finds it fun,
It may be,
She just turned 18,
And I got her 18 gifts,
She loves crocheting,
She really is unique to me,
I would rather call her chic!
And her name is…
Lavanya!

Beautiful wings flapping all the way
Incredible eyesight, they catch worms all day
Ridiculously funny, they could make a lion friendly
Digger for worms, always eating them quickly

The morning breaks in quite gold,
And poppies stir where stories hold,
The air is soft, the world is still,
Yet echoes whisper upon the hills.

We stand where silence threads the sky,
For those who marched and did not cry.
For those who flew, for those who fought,
For dreams of peace the world once sought.

Their names are carved, their courage stays,
Through fields and years and solemn days,
A moments pause, a bowed head low,
To honour all we’ll never know.

Though time may fade, the drum and gun,
The memory lives in everyone,
We promise peace – their duty done.