Pacman – by Afsana (Year 8)
The corridors hum with neon light
I glide through the corridors, sharp and tight
Each pallet shaped, a fleeting prize
But shadows swell where danger lies.
They circle close – red, blue and pink
I hardly have time to think.
Their eyes are empty, wide and cold,
I’m just a meal they long to hold.
The maze is endless, looping wide,
Nowhere to flee, nowhere to hide.
Their breathless silence grips my chest,
I wish I could rest.
My fear flips fast to surging flame,
The hunters shift, the hunted’s game.
But always still, when hunger wanes,
I’m back inside these glowing lanes,
Forever-chased, forever spun.
The maze resets,
I’m on the run.
Carousel – by Clemmie (Year 9)
She sits alone on her carousel
Round and round the same dull swell,
The horses blink, their paint half gone
Polished manes now dull.
The stars hang low in the inky night,
They whisper to the moon,
‘Look at that child all alone,
Oh how the music does make her swoon.’
The lights shine bright in golden drapes,
The little girl laughs, she holds on tight,
Never once does she fear,
The moon or the stars or the night.
Her smiles strong and never failing
Her laughter sweet and pure,
Filled with innocence of younger years
Of the carousel’s never-ending tour
And yet no-one comes
To disturb this unholy calm,
To rip her from this world she holds dear
And cause a terrible qualm.
The little girl stays and stays,
She never does leave,
So I go round and round the carousel
Hoping I too will learn to believe.
Poem – by Isla (Year 9)
A giggle tips the world off balance
Rules melt like chalk in the rain
Children itch to show off their many talents
As control forgets its name.
In play time forgets itself too -
Minutes tumble
And sunshine breaks through
As the lines between play and reality crumble.
Even sorrow at first
Peeks out, joins the game
Letting joy quench its thirst
Letting the happiness take its claim.
Laughter loops like skipping stones
Trying on joy’s bright shoes
Then the image snaps between broken bones
As the fading pain begins to bruise.
Play is not an escape,
It’s return
To the world’s bright colours
In the golden sky
And where wonder takes place
As the real world travels by.
Play – by Amina (Year 10)
The curtain breathes before it parts, and we,
The trembling cast, step into light that’s too bright
To see the faces in the dark.
Our scripts are stitched from habit, our costumes
Lined with fear. We say our lines like promises
We’ve practised every year.
The audience applauds on cue, but who are they,
And who are we? The stage feels safer than the truth
For the truth has no rhythm.
Between the acts, the silence hums. We meet ourselves
Without our masks, and it almost feels like birth.
When all the lights go out at last, and every
Echo fades away, we bow - not from duty but
Gratitude, for at least we were lucky to be
Allowed the chance to play.
Play – by Nina (Year 11)
The dusty road is deserted
There is not the song of a sunbird,
Nor the cry of a baby.
There is not the sound a skipping rope makes,
Swish swish
Against the ground.
There is not the rhythmic
Clack clack clack
Of hopscotch on flagstones.
There is not the
Tinkle …. dink
Of marbles in grass.
There is a suffocation on the air
A silence that is sickly.
The streets of Gaza are quiet.
Listen closely, and you can hear the children play.
