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