by Venus Chaudhry

Ash blankets tilted the world on its side
My head spinning as I lay while I wait
By your bed as you cried
At two in the morning.

Your shouts coloured the walls
Almost as much as my pen
Ink scribbled on my palms and dolls
At three in the morning.

Your small hands throw a useless hit
Curls of brown falling over your tear stained face
Greens and dinner on the floor in a spit
Of your burst of anger at four in the morning.

My glare stays still, shining through waves of brown
Uselessly trying to persuade you
With venomous words in my dressing gown
At five in the morning

You stare from afar
Your brown hair no longer curled
As rain poured as black as tar
At six in the morning.

We sit in a deafening silence
Love tied and knotted
No help to a ruined conscience
At seven in the morning.

We crack a smile in the dark
Your dark curls mirror mine
Our love lighting a spark
Before setting a campfire
At eight in the morning.


by Diya Fathima Mohammed Minhaj

‘Mother’ the most beautiful word in the world,
Given to that lady who is ever so hardworking.
She who shows the faith and determination,
To provide her child with a good upbringing.

By her side is her Husband,
Whose presence is indeed mandatory.
The man whose absence may cause,
A rift in the mother’s story.

Gradually, a new generation is born,
Destined to write the future’s song.
Don’t misunderstand them to be alone,
For they have their parents walking along.

In their childhood,
They are loved for their cuteness and mischief.
When they grow older,
They repay their parents with a life of relief.

They are those,
who don’t distinguish themselves as you and me.
They are the ones,
Who define a FAMILY.


by Roukaya E.

The sound of the dry
Leaves in autumn

Whoosh, whoosh
The sound of the
Wind in winter

Clap, clap
The sound of the
Kids cheering.


by Annalise McCourt-Hall

She was
The moon
In a sky full of stars
In a universe,
Of planets

She was,
The sun
The one thing
Everyone needed
But no one really wanted.

She was beauty
Carved into a delicate rose
Layered with petals
Stained with red

She was everything
She could have been
And yet
You still played her like the harmonica
Your mother gave you
For your thirteenth birthday.

Garbage Dump Desk

by Pragun Pudukoli

Mother has told me to clean my desk
even though she knows that it is as dusty
as the attic of a house that has been
abandoned for more than ten years.

More than a place for writing my homework,
she says that it is the city garbage dump.
So, I go there and clean the whole desk.
It becomes clean and tidy, but a month later,
it becomes a garbage dump again.

These Four Walls

by Ayomide Odukoya

When I first came to
Grays Convent School
I knew that it would be like a zoo
But it is my home; a precious jewel.

In 1899, it was made
Four generations before I became
Yet we are still going strong
Singing our religious song

We were so big we moved
And we got further improved
The Dell became Wylies (owned by a vet)
It was great! We were the best!

GCSE’s came and went
Most pupils passed
They were flabbergasted
We made their life better.

These four walls, moulded them

The Patient Wait

by Asiru Abdullahi

Dear 2018,
Amidst perilous travails, pain and despondency,
From families and friends, haters and enemies,
All life challenges and adversities,
Yet I’ve come so far!

Amidst exasperating outbursts and appalling criticisms,
All in a bid to put me off my dreams for 2019,
To cast me out of its success streams,
To wreck my success ferry, I hardly scaled through,
Yet I’ve come so far!

Amidst several breakups and shattered relationships,
Rejections, scorns from hypocritical friends,
Academic traumas cum failures here and there,
Yet I’ve come so far!

So far to achieve my desires intact,
To make things right for me,
To rid myself from limitations of the past,
And vanquish forces of malevolence with great valour,
To ensue a brand new year with the right motivations,
Indeed we met to part_and never part to meet.

Harvester of Souls

by Asiru Abdullahi

He takes a step towards the threshold and knocks,
“Open up! Thy time is up!”
“Oh! You’re here for my soul, not so?
I beg of you, give me more time,
I’m yet to explore the world.”
“Nay! It ends now man.”

He walks up to the next door and knocks,
“Open up! Thy time is up!”
“Oh! I believe it’s you.
Give me more time, I’ve got kids to look after, I beg of you.”
“Nay! The time is now.”

Then to the last door, he knocks,
“Open up! Thy time has expired!”
“Alas! I know it’s you.
But I beg of you, spare me more time, my grandchildren still wants me around.”
“Nay, old man! Thy time ends now,
You’ve explored enough.”

I Am Lost!

by Asiru Abdullahi

I am lost in the maze,
Bemused by its complex networks,
Of ceaseless twist and turns,
An harbinger of uneasiness.

I am lost in the woods,
Of comparable gigantic bamboos,
Resting rooted roots beneath the earth,
Not knowing the right route to the world beyond.

I am lost on an island,
No raft nor boat to sail with,
Just loitering and living, surviving,
The beastliness of its merciless harsh weather.

I am lost in thoughts,
Each with its repercussions,
Swarming higgledy – piggledy,
Thoughening options and choice making.

I am lost in the world,
Of rights and wrongs,
Whichever path I choose seems wrong,
Still searching for the truth amongst myriads beneath the sun.

I am lost to the world,
Each with his or her burdens to solve,
As the day turns dark,
Ceaselessly till eternity.

I am lost to myself,
Muddled cum frustrated,
Still plying jumbled paths for a way by the roadside.

That’s so Gay

by Amira

That’s so gay
The words just won’t go away
Swirling in my mind
Can we leave all this hate behind?

No matter the difference
Bullying is deliberate
Just because someone acts like a girl
They are still precious as a pearl

It doesn’t cost to be kind
It starts with your mind