They say grief is like a shadow,
Following you, mirroring taking
your every move,
But I think grief is like an
ocean,
Its vicious waves engulfing us
when we least expect it,
Threatening to
drown you in the sorrows of your own making,
They don’t realise
how deleterious their words are,
Every sentence
a constant thrashing wearing me down little by little,
Taking me over
consuming me,
I can’t help
feeling small scared,
I really
believed they cared,
Until the tide
turned, and a knife was wedged in my back,
Shattering my
mind and bone taking me under,
They told me to
ignore it,
That they were
demons of my own creation,
But their words
were real and struck my down like rocks,
Holding me
down, holding my head under water,
I try to fight
against the thrashing of their words in my head,
Like waves
crashing against a cliff,
But they won’t
stop,
Coming in
stronger and stronger every day,
Flowing to
every corner of my mind,
I try to
understand them,
Try to forgive
and move on,
But I am being
pushed to the limit,
Running out of
air, engulfed by the waves of my grief,
All I wanted
was someone to love,
To fish me out
my waves of sorrow,
But no one
came,
Suddenly the
sea went calm and retreated,
I waved my life
goodbye,
And took myself
to the after.
Sawsense Belaiche 8V
The disease
It started very small, only a few
were taken by the clutches of the virus. Its long rope like arms snatching
innocent souls.
They were imprisoned by a colossal
shadow, swarmed with obsidian. Families were covered by the ash smokes of
isolation.
The metal walls surrounding the
sick, protecting the world from their infectious breath, spewing out
devastating waves of the mutated illness.
Villages were burnt down by the
fumes of the prisons from where the zombified disease was contained.
Towns torn apart, populations
dropped like smashed flies falling to crumbled dirt.
Waves of grief
Here comes a simple phone call,
Muttered ae a mere few words,
As your walls come falling down,
The pot of emotions has been
stirred.
First comes denial,
A wicked thing,
To the outside it seems you don’t
care,
However inside you’re burning.
Second comes guilt,
The time that’s lost,
Every day that’s gone,
Every minute has been lost.
Then comes pain,
One of the worst,
For it feels like you have been
stabbed,
And you are lost forwards.
Next comes anger,
A fiery rage,
You scream and shout,
But nothing feels the same.
Soon comes depression,
A silent dagger,
You can’t remember how to smile,
Your life’s a stagger.
Finally comes acceptance,
A hard thing to come by,
But you can now smile,
As you wave goodbye.
Sanuli Weganthale Epite Athauda
Gedara 8Z
Nausea
Nausea hits you like a wave.
It can be triggered by anything;
From a waft of stale milk to the
sounds of the all familiar wolf whistle
It makes me feel sick.
There are a few things worse than
finding that the bread is mouldy.
That there is nothing else to eat
but the green infected sandwich.
And, no matter how far you cut
around it,
There is still that taste of wet
earth that lingers on the tip of your tongue.
But there is something worse.
You know it is bad when you are scared to walk alone in the dark.
When your parents won’t let you get the train home by
yourself.
When you hear horrendous things happening
to people and think
“That could have been me.”
You think more deeply into
innocent comments
And discover disgusting undertones.
Things that should not be said,
said
And things that should not be
repeated, repeated.
We are all people.
We all have feelings.
We all go through things.
Be considerate.
Cecilia Cameron 8Z
Adrift… alone, lost, on my own,
A grumble, a groan,
A rumble, a moan,
Then high in the sky,
Up from the sea,
The water; it flies,
All around me,
Bending, contouring,
Like a snake in the air,
Darting out from its dark deathly
lair,
Rising and rising,
High up above,
Taking flight,
As gentle as a dove,
It careers swiftly towards the
land,
Then it breaks and disappears into
the sand.
Henry Moorhouse 8W
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