These pupils are poets and they know it

These poems are written by two JCSC Year 11 pupils, as part of The Poetry Games. They are two of five winning entries from JCSC that are to be published in a book for the North East in March.


An event during your life can change it all. A hard word stabbed violently can make you spiral out of control.

Sometimes it’s nothing or no reason can be found, but mostly, it’s huge, changes to your life that surround. The death of a loved one makes all confused and lost. A darkness surrounds you, a touch of frost.

Trying climbing out of the hole you’re in, get buried further down. No smile can be sensed, no humour but frowns. Hide behind a mask and cover your hurt; You seem fine on the outside but inside you’re burnt. You’re broken deep down and cannot be fixed.

The options you take, the chances you risk, to make yourself feel that ounce better inside. It never results, give up and just hide. Hide behind the whispers, the comments, the talk. No one understands you, the tears you soak.

Depression’s in the mind, isn’t real or just a lie, say the non-believers whose lives haven’t been tried. They’ll never understand how you can feel nothing and all. Both in one moment, out of the tunnel you crawl. A hand reaches in and pulls you from the dark.

That caring word, gesture or gentle kind spark, that you’ve found a person who truly cares. Who doesn’t whisper, comment or stare. Now looking back things are better than before. Glad to be out of the tunnel that you tore, out of your life; A chapter ripped up and burnt.

Your outlook on life, the lessons you’ve learned, have changed who you are, how you think, how you feel. Closure on that chapter, the letter you can seal.

By Lois Birkinshaw


I’m trapped, enclosed, up the walls I go. My eyes bulge with energy, energy locked inside. So I jump, jump twice my height. I plead loud, not loud enough.

But my energy just won’t leave. You ignore me when you pass. I sit. You stop. You offer me your hand, place it against the cold cage.

My heart races, my cuts heal. My scars hide, my tears full. You gaze into my wounded eyes, your eyes fill, I raise my paw. That says it all.

By Georgia Soan