Breaking out, Anon
Poem by Anon, Year 8
My skin cracks like ice.
The melt is drip, drip.
Sometimes I feel powered by
A roar of tongues. Often
I sit there and say nothing
Until. I remember
People who've died to let me speak
The ice is gone. Raging.
Racing from my mouth
Like a waterfall.
Flowing back out to sea
Just a drip in the ocean
Free