Heritage Poems 75 - Guernsey schools' poetry competition

Liberation Zoe Le Ray
I remember how uncomfortable I thought my bed felt with its creaks and lumps
How I complained relentlessly about how the fire would never keep its heat.
I remember how I pestered the shopkeeper about his prices being too high
How I used every excuse I could find to avoid going out with friends.
I remember thinking that when I broke my wrist,
that would be worst pain I would have to feel in my life.
How I used to think that I wouldn’t survive twelve hours without food
Or how when the worst fear I would have was being late for church.
After the camp my creaky and lumpy bead feels like a cloud
Now the cold fire feels so warm and comforting.
My guilt upon receiving a hamper from the shopkeeper I once called stingy
Now I am grateful to have any friends at all.
And Cried! Mathilda Litten
The soldier’s trucks,
our ones, not theirs,
Caged us is once more.
Yet the relief I had expected to feel,
Was replaced with a different kind of pain,
The type that sank unsinkable ships,
And brought the grown man’s tears,
But also, the pain that kept us fighting,
Through every rainy day.
I couldn't help but feel betrayed,
There had been too many days gone by,
And the faces that had weathered a thousand storms,
Were cracked beyond repair.
Too broken to bear a childhood missed,
Or to think theirs was a battle won in vain.
We waited along the cobbled streets,
Cheered for the ones that had been lucky enough,
And cried for the soldiers who had not returned,
And cried for the soldiers who had remained at home,
And cried for ourselves because we'd been left alone.
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