Why I write- A two minute poemy thing

Writing is my therapy
I do it to stay sane
And when my feelings
Fluctuate
It helps me feel less strain.

Although I hate pretentiousness
I find the need to write
It’s like an inner turmoil
I can’t help but fight.

© Sophie Harrington (2016)

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Time (Read it, then read it from the bottom up)

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Time goes by too quickly

If you believe

You cannot

Enjoy the little things

You realise you

Get older

Can’t ever imagine you’ll

Last forever

You believe you must

Make the most of it

Frequently

Feels like a month

Passing one day

Often think

You must

Rush

You must not

Find time to play

Always

Busy

Making sure you are

Enjoying every second

For the moment

You live easily

To fill a day

For you

It seems like an age

Since you are a child

(Now read from the bottom up)

Copyright  © Sophie Harrington (2016)

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Like this poem? Try Slow Down

Think Again – Refugees

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If you ever feel your tears

More significant than his.

If you ever believe your fears

Are more harrowing than his.

If you think her pain doesn’t cut as deep

Or her loss of a loved one

Is somehow incomplete.

Then you need to think again.

She may be in Aleppo and on the TV news

But try if you can, put yourself in her shoes.

Pregnant and trapped in a city destroyed,

She wanted to flee

But it was impossible to avoid.

An endless killing spree.

She had her baby prematurely

But somehow he survived

He was in his incubator securely

When an air strike arrived.

They targeted the hospital

With a brutal bomb campaign

And little lives so brittle

Were taken with such pain.

That baby’s right to live

Was just as true as yours

His mother’s love to give

Went beyond all wars.

If you ever feel your tears

More significant than his.

If you ever believe your fears

Are more harrowing than his.

If you think her pain doesn’t cut as deep

Or her loss of a loved one

Is somehow incomplete.

Then you need to think again.

He may be in Calais and in the news,

But try if you can, put yourself in his shoes.

Driven from his country by incessant war

His family already decimated

Couldn’t take any more.

A perilous journey horrendously ill-fated.

Though he clung to his mother like glue

He’d never forget the terror

As he lost her at a border queue

Alone since that day from a fateful error.

The despair would only worsen

Though he fought on alone

Treated hardly like a person

He made it to the Jungle on his own.

At only 16, no-one knows where he is

Although they took his name

And his mother saw it on the list

She was too late to claim him, gone in the abyss.

No matter what religion

Or the colour of our skin

No matter where you come from

Or the beliefs you have within

We deserve the same protection

Dignity and care

Compassion is more than a reflection

It’s the very heart of prayer.

Copyright  © Sophie Harrington (2016)