The New Boy
Writes his name from right to left:
Speaks a language
the class can’t decipher.
Smiles as the teacher hands him
a compulsory test paper.
Wearing faded blue jeans
and skinny black sweater,
the boy sharpens a pencil
given to him by his mother
the day before she was shot in the head.
……..if only those little vulnerable children will have the opportunity to go to school. What lovely words! Let’s keep spreading courage & kindness xxx
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Indeed yes x
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Very powerful poem.
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Yes, it hit me this one x
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Brings home the brutal reality!
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Reblogged this on smithsurf and commented:
Poem number 7: the Writers for Calais Refugees blog.
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