The Little Girl's Land By Emmeline Francis
Not so long ago
In a land closer than it seems There lived a silly little girl With a pocketful of dreams She was as hated as was loved It didn't matter what she'd done But the one thing that she knew Was that she hurt everyone Too fat and too ugly Too judgmental and a fool She could never just be perfect And society was cruel It carried on for years And nobody could decide Whether this silly little girl Should get to live or die So the leader told his people That something must be done And the poor thing should be dealt with So it couldn't hurt anyone At first there was denial But the number quickly bloated Soon even the voice of mother Left the situation quite outvoted But when asked ''who would do it?'' As the people shouted blame Not a single one would volunteer And hung their heads in shame A tiny voice right from the back Suppressed by a nation's shouts Announced that she could do it No longer harbouring any doubts Every single citizen watched As a blade was drawn with care The girl aligned it to the heart To breathe she didn't dare Instantly her dull eyes closed A single push was done Hushed whispers silenced throughout the land Watching her smiling tear drops run When mother found her in the morn Dried tears still on her face She knew with greatest certainty She was not in a better place How hopeless she was lying there With blood on the bedroom floor The only thing to take comfort in They couldn't hurt her anymore Mother watched the coffin Now the girl was quite stone dead Such a pity, society sighed That the land was within her head. Take heed of this done story For the many who ruin themselves Though words might seem so innocent Our worst critics are ourselves |
The theme of this poem is that a person's worst ennemy can be oneself. Emmeline conveys this message by making the audience think this little girl is being bullied by others, but in reality it was herself that was causing the harm. A poetic device used is personification when Emmeline writes, "with a pocketful of dreams". Another poetic device is imagery when she writes,"with blood on the bedroom floor".
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The Bullying Game By Gordon Whittaker
I took a snapshot of my little tot
then gently lifted her out of her cot she was like a feather in my arms, and oh how I fell for those baby charms. Those small delicate fingers and screwed up tiny toes, the aroma of a newborn baby, her beautiful wrinkled nose. Now fifteen years further on, life is certainly not the same. My girl comes home from school with her head hung down in shame. Today once more she’s been the victim of the bullying game. Tears welled up in her beautiful blue eyes Mum I can’t take this madness anymore she cries. I’m going to end it once and for all, she said It’s now a year this bullying has gone on, believe me Mum I have sometimes wished That I was dead.. Those words filled her Mum with fright, she went to the bathroom and removed all the pills to a safer place that evening. Foreboding gripped her heart, that night. She went lots of times to her daughter’s bedroom to see if she was okay. She stayed awake all of the night. awaiting the dawn of a new day. The new day came, her daughter arrived home but not hanging her head in shame, she came in the room no tears were shed. Later she ate her tea and retired to bed. The next day mum rang her teacher to ask about her daughter, “well yesterday she taught those bullies a lesson “said the teacher, “I’ll say no more but all three of them ended up on the floor.” Mum replaced the phone, with a feeling of disbelief, a weight was of her shoulders, she felt only relief. She no longer felt down and blue, she hoped and prayed that What she had heard was true. Then she remembered the book in her daughters room last week, and smiled to herself as she took a peek. The title was “Learn the art of self-defence, master Jujitsu.” My little tot in the cot, she certainly has grown up a lot. Mum burst into a fit of uncontrolable sobbing and laughter, she later settled down, became more peaceful and mild, she now knew she was'nt going to lose her beloved child. |
The theme of this poem is that a person won't forever be a victim to bullying. Gordon conveys this message by obviously writing from a personal experience about his daughter that was being bullied, but later stood up to herself. A poetic device used is a simile when he writes,"she was like a feather in my arms". Another poetic device used is allusion when he mentions Master Jujitsu.
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Bullying: The word means nothing By Yasmin Argent
I bat lashes of mascara,
and twist hips of fat. I touch cheeks of foundation, and move legs: two the size of four. I part lips of rouge, and kneel, feeling roll upon roll. I close eyes of bags, and pray for life to end. Did they know of seven years? Seven years of confidence corrosion. Did they see the impact? Seven years of soul tainting, words. |
The theme of this poem is that although a person can appear fine on the outside, they can be feeling the complete opposite on the inside. Yasmin conveys this message by how she puts up a front in order to mask what she has been really hiding on the inside. She uses a lot of imagery when she writes,"I touch cheeks of foundation" or "I bat lashes of mascara".
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Should've, Could've, Would've By Emily Greenlee
I should've, could've, would've;
Done something about that day, If only I had known it ended this way. I am not proud to tell you How I stood there and watched; He was so big and scary Was all that I thought. I couldn't, wouldn't, shouldn't, get involved at all. I say to myself; It's none of my business; As I turn and walk down the hall. I hear on the news; 'bout this kid who had died It tells of his woe; The day of his suicide They talk about how he locked himself inside of his room All to have shot himself to forget all the pain. Now as I walk through my school I hear the laughter But see the fear In their eyes plainly after And I know what their thought could easily be They think to themselves "what if it was me" I could've done something, I could've told someone, I would've, if I hadn't been so afraid. Now I stand here promising If I ever see, This scary and sad sight again I will change my should've, could've, would've Into have, done, and did. |
The theme of this poem is that if you have the power to stop something that is wrong and you don't, you will likely be regretting that very moment. Emily conveys this message by also talking about a personal experience where she was a bystander to bullying and how the guilt is still upon her. The poetic device used frequently is imagery when she writes,"he was so big and scary" and "I hear the laughter".
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