Category: 2019-20 Submissions

My Dreams Have Gone

My dreams have gone,
I cannot bear –
Who knows why,
Who knows where?

I can’t explain
why they have gone –
Who knows why,
Who knows where?

Here they come,
There they go –
I cannot bear
without them here.

My dreams have gone,
I cannot bear –
Who knows why,
Who knows where?

So as I say,
Hold fast to dreams –
For I cannot bear
without them here.

My Mom

My Mom

A life without you is like the darkest of skies,
With no moon, no stars no meteorites.
We could not see nor do anything,
Without you, we would be nothing,

You are like the North Star, brilliant and bright,
Guiding people everywhere, all through the night.
You are also like the moon, with its luminous glimmer,
Giving assurance to all, even if you cannot be there.

You are like the stars, each one part of a bright light regime,
You are the shooting stars, which grant people’s dreams
You are all of this and more than I can even say,
You light up the entire sky, and you light up my day!

The Masked Dancer

Every night, when the sun finally sets, and creeps below the horizon,
She puts on her armour, a mask, so captivating, it’s what everyone fixes their eyes on.
When the clock strikes ten, just as always, she glides onto the floor,
Perfecting the steps she made yesterday, as well as the day before.
Every night, from ten to twelve she glissades around the stage,
The crowd’s desire to see her dance is her never-ending goal to assuage.
Again and again, the same old dance, the same tedious song.
The crowd admires her, worships her, envies her, but she knows she doesn’t belong.
She continues to smile, so elegant, pristine, not a step that’s out of place,
But she dawns her mask, a blood red barrier, so no one can see her face.
To everyone else she’s portrait of perfection, everyone’s secret heartache.
However, when she takes off her mask and looks in a mirror, all that’s reflected is a mistake.
She abhors the perfect dress, stylish shoes, and her never-ending task,
She longs for a challenge, an adventure, a life, but instead she hides behind a mask.
So every night when the clock strikes ten, she takes in the roar of the crowd,
She smiles and dances, always the same, because it is all that the world has allowed.

To Those Who Matter

Why should I try
To be famous?
To ‘fit in’?
To be ‘cool’?
Why should I try
To be what I’m not
To be cold when I’m hot?
Is this what I want?
To be chained by one’s thought?
To be loved for who I’m not?
To let my value be determined what I wear?
When really, I should be valued by
What I share
How much I care
Who I am inside
Why should I try
To be famous?
To be who I’m not?
For I am already famous
To those who matter
More than
To those who do not.