Poetry Centre


  • He looked weaker than ever lying there.
    A flicker of hope, sagged down into his contours,
    Weighing heavily under his eyes.

    Married, barely a year.
    Until his eye wandered, his body thrown.
    Glass, piercing his skin.
    The belt never tried to save him.

    His body. Paralysed.
    No movement, not even a twitch.
    No sound leaves his lips.
    No flicker of an eyelid.

    His hand no longer squeezes mine, in his.
    No power in his frame, his body broken.
    The tears glistened, streaming down my face.
    They won’t stop.

    by Laura Bedwell (Wychwood School) (Runner Up)