A Greyish Kind of Cotton

06 Sep A Greyish Kind of Cotton

 

A greyish kind of cotton

Wraps me in its wool

Protects me from this seashell ocean

Away from its gritty sand.

 

Can you hear it?

When it’s pressed against your ear?

Do you remember

The ocean’s waves and fear?

 

This greyish kind of cotton

Creates its own thunder

Imitates the windy ocean

And I can remember its sound.

 

I close my eyes, and grey turns to black.

I remember the noise

That called me here before.

Yes, I planted my roots here for a reason,

And there is a reason why they continue to grow

And wrap themselves around each other

In chains of broken wood.

There is a reason why every time I hear the name

Of these here unholy chains

I will always reach for a newfound chance

To grow new roots into cemented soil.

 

Because I was raised in ever-changing dirt

Where the only constants were my roots that stayed as still as they could

But grew into something that you will never see.

So now that I may plant myself,

I will grow as loud and as large as I possibly can

Because I am here!

I will engrave my name into this very stone

I will now move from where I am today

I will no longer cower from my imaginary fears

I will no longer be afraid of the change that brings tears

Because this greyish kind of cotton has wrapped me in here.

 

And yet still

The world changes

And my roots have outgrown this stone.

You will leave, and I will change

And while you can believe that to us joy will be unstrange

Outside of this cotton,

I am frostbitten and I am afraid.

I can see the blue sky that surrounds us

And feel the full force of the brutal sun.

But you will leave, and I will change

And never again, will we ever be the same.

 

Cerys Gibby – Year 10



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