Competition Entry

Here comes a fairy granting you three wishes
she holds a sparkly wand in her tiny hand
her twinkling eyes look you in the face
her see-through wings fluttering at a pace
you wish for a happy life with lots of friends
and a family that love you much with no end
she grants those wishes – one and two
then you hold your breath
and wish your last one
you wish to be wealthy
and capable of much
in your future that holds a lot of trust

The pencil is blunt.
Oh, his grey hair
Needs to be sharp
So that he looks good.
Who will style his hair?
Me, of course,
For I am the hair stylist
Of the pencil.
I take out my tool.
A sharpener.
This sharpener
Is like the tools used by a hair stylist.
And the pencil is sharp.
It can be used for writing.
Oh! Its hair has fallen down.
Now it’s bald.
It tries to cover its bald head.
But it can’t for it
Doesn’t have hands.
Who will do his hair transplant?
Me, of course,
For I am the one who
Does the hair transplant
For the pencil.
I take out my tool.
A sharpener.
This sharpener
Is like the tools used by
One who does hair transplants.
And at last he has hair.
Sharp, grey hair.
But the pencil will come back
After some time,
For after somebody writes something,
And it ages,
It’s hair becomes blunt.
Or it becomes bald.
It will come back to me.
For I am the one
Who takes care of the pencil’s hair.

Dance with the waves,
Move with the sea…

Twas the night before Christmas when all though the house…

There is this chair
In our village.
That is said to be cursed.
We call it the cursed chair.
It became cursed because
Of a criminal,
Who lived in our village.
Once, he was caught
For committing some crime.
He was to be hanged.
Before being hanged,
He said
‘Whoever sits on this chair,
Will die under mysterious conditions.’
And so
Whoever sat on it,
Died under mysterious conditions.
We believe it is a cursed chair.
But there was an old man who said,
All that is not true.’
We didn’t agree.
‘Fine,’ said he. ‘I will sit on the chair
And show you that it isn’t cursed.’
We tried to stop him.
‘Don’t take the risk,
You will die.’
‘Well never mind,’
he replied, ‘I’m old.
It’s okay if I die.’
All our efforts were in vain.
He sat on the chair.
Nothing happened.
After one day, he’s fine.
After two days, he’s fine.
But after three days,
News spread everywhere,
Like fire spreads in a house.
The old man died
Under mysterious conditions.

Leaves, leaves
look at all the colours
red, orange, yellow.
Jump and make leaf piles
and jump in them all
The fun we have
but it can’t last forever

Is it the way I walk
Or how I talk,
How I look
Or what’s in my notebook?
On this planet
Leaks sadness in a blanket
We’re always judged
Or even nudged
Is it the clothes I wear
How I style my hair
Are my teeth not straight?
Sure, I’m no saint
D’you think it’s low self-esteem
Or will I never be supreme?
Am I not skinny enough
As fat as a cream puff
Is it ‘cos I bite my nails?
All these honest tales
I’m not yet done
I’m not even fun
I look into the mirror
But there’s no glimmer
Just me staring back
Is it beauty I lack?
Are my feet too long
Were they shaped wrong
Am I just a nerd?
Really, it’s inferred
Why couldn’t God give me the gift
The gift to give my reputation a lift
Perfection’s what I need
So I can transform from this weed
Sometimes I wonder
Then after I ponder
Is anyone perfect?
Well yes, it’s beauty they collect
God made me
Shaped me
Formed me
Into this human I am
But really I have my own glam
Everyone Is perfect
That’s why you should never neglect
Everyone’s perfect just as they are.
So, am I perfect, well yes I am.

I lean down
An ant is crawling.
Here and there,
There and here.
It goes.
It does not know
That a spider’s web is near.
It turns to its left,
Walks a little
And it is stuck.
It is helpless.
For it, it
Is the same as
Being dead.
The spider has noticed
That an ant has got caught.
The spider is crawling downwards.
I think
Should I break the spider’s web?
Well, a house can
Be built again.
But life cannot be brought back.
But why should I give such a burden
To the spider?
Well, it’s okay, the spider can
Build the house again.
But I am too late.
The spider’s mouth
Touches the ant’s head.
And the spider has eaten
The ant’s head.
It continues to eat the ant.
Well, now there’s no point
In breaking the web.
Because the ant has already
Been killed.
So I get up and walk away,
Respecting the beauty of nature.

I sit by the road,
But I am always being ignored.
I always ask for something,
But I get nothing.

Will this slum never change?
Before I die?
Will I get a chance,
To see my chidren,
With a better future.

I feel so dull,
I see the birds,
Who fly away,
I see small girls,
Who go to school.

My home is so smelly,
And so unclean,
And full of dust,
Everything is rotten and rust.

I have nothing to eat,
Nothing new to wear,
And nowhere to go.

When will my life change
Into a luxurious life?
But living as a poor man is better,
For if I am rich,
I shall be greedy for more and more,
and shall never be satisfied

Every man shall not be satisfied for ever,
For life is not a bed of roses
But of thorns!!

Cupcakes are sweet
Cupcakes are fluffy
Melt in your mouth
Oh so yummy
Icing on top
Choc chips within
What a nice treat in my cake tin!
Yum!