Poetry Competition Highlights

Last Sunday:

My Best Friend,
There was nothing better than the time we spent,
Nights and days in a blissful place,
Before you departed to Heaven’s Gate.
I refuse to dilapidate our memories, not cease our story here,
For you were my Best Friend, my companion, and now your end feels near
Though it was not losing you I feared, your memory remains near.
Relentless Coverage, Media Stories, all beginning to overbear.

A tendency of mine is to overlook
The happy memories that the Devil took.
The impulse of a better place,
Seems like a place no one should face
Nothing better than God’s Gift.
But every time I think about Heaven my Heart drifts,
The Who, What, Where and Why,
Make people as sad as I.
Wretched reminiscences depart, let’s go back to the start, we shall never be apart.

RIP Ben Cook 14/5/17

George Gregory, U6th A-level pupil 


Double Standards:

All adapt to double standards, ignorant to when our rules meandered.
Able to judge others with agility,
not considering that we all sin differently.
Condemned if you shed a lie,
if in a circumstance to save a life – wouldn’t you justify?
Executed for stealing, but may grow different feelings,
if you saw the life of your mother peeling, internal bleeding,
scarce breathing, life leaking, curable medicine – would you avoid thieving?

Injected homophobia, expectations of a heterosexual “utopia”.
Homosexuality, love fundamentally, love – a Christian duty.
Rebuked for sexual encounters at a young age, put on a crucifixial stage, teenage outrage.
For getting with a boy, getting with one or two making you a sex toy.
Critics: “She shouldn’t have got with Troy!” but why is Troy now the
respected, cool playboy? And the girl’s reputation – destroy,
regardless, even if what she did she enjoyed.
So commonly filled with envy, I guess these days it’s trendy –
Those who are green will do nothing to better themselves, instead –
Sit, hate and belittle because they’re without the latest Fendi.

Would you still condemn aborting a baby, if told you wouldn’t deliver safely?
Would you still jump on the hateful bandwagon, and when labelled as a bully, insist that’s an over-reaction?
Would you still say suicide is selfish when considering it’s the “self” that’s perished?
Before self-esteem grows thinner, remember we’re all born sinners.

Jaylin Robinson, U6th A-level pupil


This City is Alive:

Humour is our best friend
Laughter, our number one companion
There’s an odd sense of togetherness and almost everyone is connected in some way.
Community is a big thing and is how a city functions.

Men and Women walk down the streets selling all types of sweet and savoury treats,
Or sometimes even our favourite meals – ready made.
All around, there is something going on;
Someone playing cards on stools outside a wrapper shop, the old woman who sells puff puff
Shouting a greeting to her new customers.
The city does not sleep – it is never silent.

Down the road, a wedding has just ended
Women dressed in lavish, brightly studded materials,
Mingle and talk about the latest gossip.
Another heated conversation about politics and Nigeria’s way forward has sprung up at the ‘wise’ woman’s restaurant.
Bustling and vibrant, almost bursting and almost about to explode with life,
Humour fills the air;
Bright colours and culture on which this city was built.
This city is alive.

Ore Akinfemiwa, 4th Form pupil 



I get that you’re trying to do your best for me,
And honestly, I do want to go to university.

I feel like all I want to do is quit –
I’m sure you can tell by my attitude and wit.
It all makes me feel stressed.
Right now, I’m not feeling too blessed.

I’ve got a lot of work to do.
It’s not just your subject, you know that, don’t you?
I’ve got all of these essays,
They’ve been coming at me for days.
I only have one way to de-stress –
And I’m walking the dog less and less.

You’ve got me doing all these extra activities,
I’m begging you for an extension, please?
I know that the deadlines are getting closer
Please can the school be hit by a bulldozer?
All my teachers are starting to get to me.
I just want to be finished, to sit by the sea.

You keep piling the pressure on
But when you’re gone
I’m still up, working hard,
And honestly, my brain is scarred.
All I want to do is give up.
Every time, I’m not the winner, I’m the runner-up.
I don’t think I’ve ever been the best
I’m not as clever as all the rest
I’ve never been in the top set
I never will be, I bet.
At home, I’m having issues
I can’t help but reach for the tissues.

I can’t do this anymore –
I’m doing an extension, not just core.
You’re piling on the prep
How am I meant to take the next step?
I just want to take that final leap.
I’m really trying not to weep.

I don’t think I can handle another day.
I know it’s wrong, but it’s all I want to say.
Me and education just don’t click –
Something about it just makes me feel sick.
I get it that I have to be here,
But I’m kinda done with all this Shakespeare.

But I’ll struggle through all the stresses
As at the end, we’ll all be wearing pretty dresses.
We know that you all care
And one day we’ll get there.
We’ll do something we’re allowed
And make you all very, very proud.

Lotti Fox, U6th A-level pupil


She lays in bed alone in the darkness, crying for everything to stop.
She needs a release to set her free –
she turns to the only thing she knows.
The pain flows out with the hate not far behind
It flows until it turns into just a little drip.
Make it stop; her deep red sea surrounds her and she just wants it to stop.

Thrown back into the darkness, she inhales deeply as the pretty pictures surrounding her body burn with a passion.
Rejected, alone, helpless, her comfort zone.
Her new-found home.
She smiles, she laughs, she’s happy yet under all her beautiful skin, she is scarred, deeply wounded by the life she has been handed.

Her beauty is branded by the ways of the world.
She moves silently observing, preserving, undeserving.
When will it stop?
The night is full of terrors, haunted by the ghosts of her past.
How long will this last?
As her tears fall violently down her face
She feels the warmth, the blinding light within her, shining.
She’s falling, free-falling through the night
Like the beautiful angel she is.
Eyes shut, savouring her moment, her wings stop her from

She floats, eyes bright.
“Take me back to the night we met”
She whispers this, her heart light as
She disappears into the night.

Deborah Adams, U6th A-level pupil

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