Waking up in room 8
Straight lines and sharp
marching meticulously behind the
breaking of dawn
raying through checkered bars
and splayed on a wall of yellow
stokedly caressing yesterday's mask
wiping away slumber
comandeering onwards today
By Aquila Tokanini jnr
Lost island
Lost and lonely
All alone out at sea
We sit and stare
Our eyes filled with despair
We look out into the ocean
But to see no one except blue waves
We long for someone to comfort us
To make us feel they need us
The waves kiss our dry, sandy lips
No birds sit on the branches of our trees
And when the wind blows not a single breeze
We feel so insecure
So the setting sun paints golden our shining beach
But how long shall our tears waste into salty waters
we just want someone to hold and comfort us
We are like those locked in rooms
crying, praying: all hope lost
not knowing where we are
or where to go
we are all around you
we cry to you, begging you to find us
All we ask is for someone to comfort and love us
or we'd fall deep into the arms of a vast
blue ocean of loneliness
Kissed by the waves of anxiety
Like a lost island
By Gelab Piak
Fleeing these halls
In this sweet little pig pen
Walls that once were friends
And bold shields
For lounge room warriors
Now barricade
Detain indefinitely, denying
Beyond them imaginings
For ravenous captives
With restless longing and fears
Choose now the door
Indulgence to ruin, or
Patience to pride
An unforgiving master waits
With bitter destinies to navigate
Seize propitious offerings
Fleeing these halls
To uncertain fate
Courage now, groomed in isolation
Seclusion of rooms
No longer resting places.
By Michael Dom
Full circle
Every beginning has its end
And every end has its beginning
In this journey called life
We always come full circle
To where it all started
From where it came to an end
And though we travel far
And even though we search wide
The answers we seek to find
Are always imagined
But it is a lesson all must learn
That the things of most importance
Are the things you always had
And that you know not of their value
Till they slip right through your hands
By Daniel Sakumai
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