Raabiatul Adawiyah Class: 3/4
When I was five
They told me to be a good child
Study hard for the perfect grade
So they can be proud of what they made
I’m like a blank canvas
And they gave me my colours
My days had never seen clouds of gloom
And my pretty, red flower was still in full bloom
When I was ten
Finally made some new friends
They taught me standards of beauty
Or to have brains if you can’t be pretty
Glittery eyes and bright luscious lips
Tight denim jeans on those small skinny hips
Without realising, now my big, beautiful flower
Has started to lose its soft petals by the hour
When I was twelve
Started changing myself
I followed new trends
To fit in with my friends
Like an ugly duckling among beautiful swans
Wishing for a fairy godmother with a magical wand
My curtains are closed and now i can’t see
The life in my flower is slowly running free
Now I am fifteen
I think I turned a bit mean
After he left me how nice can I be
It’s as if all my joy was sucked out of me
“please come back” I used to say everyday
Maybe he could hear me from up above when I pray
My sun doesn’t rise up as of today
My flower has wilted, its drooping and gray
When I am eighteen
I wonder of all the things I’ve seen
Am I on the same ground and under the same sky
Who are the people that have said goodbye
Will my dreams of seeing the streets of Berlin and Rome
Come true so magically I wouldn’t want to come home
Will the ghosts of my past finally leave me alone
For a new, vibrant flower to grow on my throne
Writers by the River 