I Will Remember
The sands of time are running out for some babies,
To them death was the begging and end,
They only got one glimpse of the world,
And that one glimpse was not enough,
I will remember them.
These children died of natural causes,
Their lives were cut short,
They never got a chance to blossom,
I will remember them.
These men fought for their country,
They fought for us,
To these men, death was not a nightmare,
Or something in a horror movie,
Death was a part of life,
These men risked their lives for peace.
We will remember them
By Abbie Hulme, 8Y
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WHISPERING WALLS
I place my ear against the wall,
I hear it talking to me,
Whispering the conversation,
The conversation of the people,
The people on the walls,
Some happy, some sad,
Some good, some bad,
They are the whispering walls.
BABY OF MY PAST
A brother five years ago,
Was to be born a boy,
The blood did not flow,
It was hard to let go.
I wonder what,
It would feel like,
If I had known by brother,
Still, it’s hard to let go.
THE WIDOW WOMEN
Those poor women,
Left without a husband,
Left to do it all alone,
How must they feel?
The children, the house, the money,
The widow women.
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WE WILL REMEMBER THEM
Polar Bears,
That’s what they’re called,
All battling in Iceland,
In their snowy underground caves.
Their names on the wall,
Are there to remember,
Shown to the world,
The victims of war.
They died for us,
There in battle,
Remembered by an Obelisk,
The point of heaven and earth.
A shaft of life,
Shining through,
The day of remembrance,
All the elevens.
Some walls are empty,
Some walls are full,
But bit by bit they all fill up,
The sacrifice of the world.
Friendships are strong,
Like an old tree,
Their friendships live on,
Live on in me.
All the people there,
On ships, on planes, on feet,
Gave their lives here today,
And only remembered by a tree.
Like a castle with a moat,
There it stands,
The remembrance of the armed forces,
Standing strong on the ground.
All the babies,
That died in the war,
Their names inscribed,
In a pebble on the floor.
Their lives were over,
In the blink of a flash,
Like the sand in an hourglass,
Just ticking away in time.
By Holly Powell, 8P
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UNNAMED POEM
The wooden bear stands lordly above the crowd,
His gaze of victory making him a warrior,
His heart of memories pumping with boldness and secrecy,
With beatification and pleasure.
As the whispering walls call to me,
I don’t hear the people at the other end,
Only the names that call for peace,
And to end of suffering.
I never thought about the people,
Who died for me,
Who never came home,
Who now live inside me.
I wonder what O’Connor thinks,
As he walks on his masterpiece,
Being its host to the souls behind the names,
That bring the sorrow and the tears.
The 11th minute,
The 11th hour,
The 11th day,
The 11th month,
When the sun shines in the wreath,
Releasing the souls from the marble,
But as that minute passes by,
The souls turn into names one again,
And the wait.
By Chloe Whitehouse, 7H
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I am only a teenager
I am only a teenager so it is hard to explain
This picture in my hand is filled with so much pain
The picture is of a man with his wife and children
He wears his uniform so proudly
His name is now on the memorial wall
His wife mourns him to this day
I feel so sorry as I look at his smiling face
As I know what happened to him
It must have been horrible, bullets flying,
Bombs blasting in all directions,
Friends being killed, the screams and cries of wounded soldiers,
When all of a sudden it is your turn,
Swimming in your own blood, the pain unbearable,
Death coming nearer, death coming nearer,
Then numb to the pain, all is dark,
There is no noise,
No sound at all,
Relax and asleep,
This picture in my hand is filled with so much pain.
By Bradley Plester, 9P
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THE UNKNOWN SOLDIER
When you look at the blank wall, what do you see?
A blank canvas
An empty page
A question awaiting an answer
Well, I see pain,
A river of pain that flows through any soldiers eyes
I see sorrow
Bleeding from the heart of the widow
I see anger
That blazes hot in the parents souls
I see hatred
Burning in the mind of the killer
I see violence
That others do not wish to notice
I see desperation
Rippling in the tear of a lonely mother
Yet,
I see honour,
Glistening across the wounded face
I see dignity
Sweeping the nations memories
I see pride
Twinkling in a sergeant’s last sprint
I see devotion
To their King and their country
I see faith
A belief that so many people dream of
And I see innocence
Of the newborn baby
Who will never look into their daddy’s eyes
I see … The unknown soldier
By Joanne Day, 9A
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THE SOLDIERS’ CRY
Why did these soldiers die for us?
They gave us hope without a fuss,
Why didn’t those soldiers cry at night?
Because they saw justice and light.
Why didn’t those men run away?
Because they thought victory was on its way,
Beyond their life, their family will say,
“Hurry up and run away”.
Their names now are standing tall
Upon top of the arboretum wall.
By Celina and Sophie
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THE MESSAGE
Swift and bold,
Were the stories these people told,
But to me they are just words on stone,
Engraved for reasons I don’t know.
Dead hands raised up high,
Waving at the pillar holding the sky,
Pleading with God for it to end,
Maybe the message wasn’t sent.
This makes me ask questions I can’t ignore,
Why is there grief still, why is there war,
And through the anger and despair,
It makes you wonder if anyone else cares.
By Tom Wilcox, 9S
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THE ARBORETUM
The entrance to heaven is not far away,
Especially for the soldiers,
Who died on D-Day.
Oak trees sway gently in the breeze,
In memory of the sailors,
Who died on the seas.
The airmen in their airplanes,
Played a large part too,
So much is owed to those very brave few.
ML Forge was serving his country in 1982,
Caught in friendly crossfire,
He died too.
Fifteen thousand odd names on a wall
As a result of conflict
I hope to God no more fall
By Edward Beard, 8P
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SOLDIERS
Our families crying, our graves still,
Our bodies broken, our souls lost,
Our lives destroyed,
Our names carved in stone.
Remember us
MOTHERS
Our children are dead
Gone forever
Our sorrow too much
We’re heartbroken
Our despair is the worst
We’re left behind
Remember us
WIDOWS
Our husbands lost,
In war and violence,
Our children left sad and fatherless,
Our loss is too much to cope with.
Remember us
We recognise your sorrow and despair,
We pray that your position will not be ours,
We dedicate this poem to you.
We will remember you
By Rachel Wilson, 80
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SILENCE AT DAWN
In the dawn of the new morning,
Silence.
The shimmering mist hangs still,
Over barren No Mans Land,
Sleepy, yet ready to scarper,
At the first sound of guns.
In the dawn of the new morning
Silence.
The deep breathing of those soldiers,
Who gallantly face the nightmares sleep brings,
And re-live battles, pain and suffering,
Reaching out to lost comrades.
In the dawn of the new morning,
Silence.
The young man on his lookout post,
Taking his shift in the never-ending night,
Dreaming of home; his beautiful wife,
Hoping and praying he will see her again.
In the dawn of the new morning,
Silence.
Treasured bundles from loved ones,
By each soldiers pack; socks,
An abundance of socks, and letter too,
Bravely bearing words of comfort to the lost souls of war.
In the dawn of the new morning,
Silence.
As the sun begins to peep over the horizon,
Splashing rays here and there,
Officers bustle about in trenches,
Rising their charges – life begins to hum.
In the dawn of the new morning,
Silence.
Uniforms are thrust on, helmets and armour too,
Weapons are readied – who knows what will happen,
Troops organised, sent this way and that,
No time for fear – fight for your country!
In the first light of a new day,
Gunfire.
By Nicky Griffiths, 9A
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REMEMBER
I try to remember,
I try to forget,
The misery I feel,
When I think of that person,
Who left me alone in this world.
All alone in the dark,
With no light and no you,
You were my light,
And without you, I’m through.
I try to remember,
I try to forget,
Your name on the wall,
With your friends on there too,
Who all died right next to you.
All alone in the dark
With no light and no you
You were my light
And without you I’m through
I WILL REMEMBER YOU
By Hannah Clarke, 8E
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POEM
Memories, grieving are things people use,
They use these from love of a lost one,
Whether it was a great memory or not,
People still grieve.
People, representation are things in our lives,
When we lose someone we represent them,
If with a plant or a statue,
We represent someone we loved and lost.
WW1, WW2 are things we didn’t want,
We lost millions between both of these wars,
But it’s the past now and we will never forget,
WW1 and WW2.
By Kirsty Ashley, 90
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NOW I’VE GONE
Now that I have gone
The name that you can see
Is the only little thing
That is left of me
Now I see you crying
As the tears roll down your face
They all keep on falling
At a really slow pace
I have to say goodbye now
As it is my time to go
But there is one last thing to tell you
And that’s I love you so.
By Alice Wilkes, 8H
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NAMES ON THE WALL
So many names, all staring at you,
A Bob, a George a Harry too,
Why was it now that they ended up here?
It was for you and me, isn’t it clear?
A life in the dark, from a shot in the head,
Because of a stupid decision, means they are dead,
They fought for us, to give us life in the light,
And all they get is an endless black sight.
How many names, calling from the stone?
Telling us their story, about how there’re alone,
The stone is white, but really it’s black,
If you could see clearly, you wouldn’t need to look back.
For every death, a tree can grow,
A whole world to explore, but they’ll never know,
So many tears, lost to the ground,
Like the voices of those losing their sound.
By Hannah Daw, 9E
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MY POEM
They died for us,
So we pray for them.
They gave us freedom,
So we owe them our lives.
They never stay in our mind,
But always in our hearts.
They trained for days on end,
Just to serve their country.
They fought so we could,
Live the way we do today.
We owe them everything
So we all must say thank you
To those ones who gave own lives for us
ANON 02
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Lost
Lost in the storm of fire and hatred,
They laid down their life so we can see tomorrow,
They ignored everything said,
Charged with their life straight ahead,
The whispers of war echo through the ages,
And the blank walls are silent and waiting,
Babies and children born asleep,
Crying in heaven,
As all of their parents weep,
Remember what you saw and heard today,
It may not be here tomorrow.
By Melissa Chatterton, 8E
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HERE I LIE
Here I lie,
Amongst my garden,
Not a care in the world,
Not a place that I would rather be.
The flowers that I am surrounded by,
Are full of happy memories,
They dance around in everyday weathers,
Brightening up my garden.
People come and visit,
Every single day of the year,
They sit upon my table,
To stroke my stony skin.
They sit and think,
Of the memories I give,
And absorb the good times they had,
They also let out all their grief.
I guard all the pebbles,
That lie to the side of the path,
They cause people to weep,
They cause people to cry.
All the pebbles lead up to me,
With the dead roses,
They lie beside me,
All floppy and limp.
I am trapped in a puzzle,
With one missing piece,
There is no way out,
Of my stony palace.
Here I lie,
As still as can be,
I will be waiting here,
For years to come.
Here I lie
By Laura Eggington, 8P
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Shot at dawn
Going to be shot at dawn,
The thought nesting in my head,
I think “Why must it be me to die?”
And not the enemy instead.
“You will be executed at 9.00am,
No sooner or later than that,
And don’t think about racing away,
You despicable, cowardly rat.”
I write my last letter home right now,
I say goodbye to my family and friends,
I wish I could be with them at this moment,
Because that’s how I’d like my time to end.
It’s dawn and it’s time for the bird to catch its prey,
I am angry and annoyed and upset,
They treat me like a slave, not a soldier,
I’d do anything to kill them, you bet.
I’m there, I’m blind,
I am truly resigned,
I could not care less,
For my life is a mess,
My friends get their gun,
And with a “three, two, one”,
It is over.
By Alex Sharpe, 8E
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FROM EARTH TO HEAVEN
All these soldiers dying,
Fighting for us,
Going to foreign countries,
Without any fuss.
Their bravery and determination,
As they die in pride,
And you can see,
I’m always on their side.
English and American soldiers,
Upon the wall,
In the Arboretum,
Standing tall.
The obelisk,
Is where they go,
From Earth to Heaven,
We see, and so.
We respect the all,
For what they did,
I can only say,
WE WILL REMEMBER THEM.
By Charlotte O’Donoghue, 7H
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EVERYTHING IS OMINOUS
The future is fatal,
To those of us who know what it brings,
The long eerie silence of rooms,
As we think of the men we have untimely sent,
To …. Whichever DAMN GOD they believe in,
So many mourners for so many men,
All the memorials representing them,
The unforgiven,
The unforgotten,
The non expectant,
The non respondent,
All of this my conscience carries
None of which will ever repent
Sending cargo into my brain splattered gun torn violence,
…. Sorry, I am.
DOOMED YOUTH
What passing-bells for these who die as cattle?
Only the monstrous anger of the guns,
Only the stuttering rifles rapid rattle,
Can patter out their hasty orisons,
No mockeries now for them,
No prayers, nor bells,
Nor any voice of mourning, save the choirs,
The shrill, demented choirs of wailing shells,
And bugles calling for them from sad shires.
What candles may be held to speed them all?
Not in The hands of boys but in their eyes,
Shall shine the holy glimmers of goodbyes,
The pallor of girls’ brows shall be their pall,
Their flowers the tenderness of patient minds,
And each slow dusk a drawing-down of blinds.
By Spencer Aldritt
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DON’T LET THE BED BUGS BITE
A POEM DEDICATED TO ROSE
“You are beautiful,
Just as I imagined,
With those rosy cheeks,
And that plump red nose,
But my emotions are never ending,
Like a train on a track,
Leading round in circles,
I begin to wonder,
How great it would have been,
To see those rosy cheeks,
On the swings,
In the park,
My tears are rapid as I begin,
To let my imagination fly,
We would have entered,
Mother daughter baking contests,
And end up laughing about it years later,
Your golden locks would have grown long and wavy,
But now, that’s a long way away,
Oh darling, baby girl,
What did I do wrong?
Why was it your life to be cut short?
To me, you are one beautiful tree,
Which didn’t have time to blossom,
But even though you never did these things,
You are the most wonderful thing that ever happened to me,
We would have called you Rose,
Sweet and overpowering,
But, sweetie, you are like sand running through a timer,
It is hard to explain,
But I feel you getting cooler in my arms,
I’m sorry, baby,
It’s time for mommy to leave,
You are going somewhere magnificent,
With all the other roses,
My darling, Rose,
You are in my heart,
Forever and ever,
And these tears, baby girl,
Show my sorrow and sadness,
And with that constant being noise,
I leave you, Rose,
Goodnight, don’t let the bed bugs bite.
By Natalie Jones, 8A
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BITE THE BULLET
I was young and naïve,
Dreaming of a rosy future,
I would be a hero,
But now I must bite the bullet.
My uniform was pristine,
My boots glimmering,
And my bayonet fixed,
But now I must bite the bullet.
The battle was excruciating,
Sorrow was with me throughout,
Scared out of my skin,
But now I must bite the bullet.
Sleepless nights were long,
Cuts were sore,
Dreams were painful,
But now I must bite the bullet.
Should I run,
Should I hide,
Should I end it now,
But now I must bite the bullet.
The freedom,
The excitement,
I was going home,
But now I must bite the bullet.
The men with their aim fixed,
My hands trembling,
The one letter home,
But now I must bite the bullet.
I cannot see,
I cannot hear,
I cannot breathe,
For only now have I bitten the bullet.
By Jack Writer, 8Y
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AT THE ARBORETUM
At the Arboretum we saw lots of things,
We saw the names on the walls of the soldiers,
The soldiers that risked their lives to save us,
We saw part of the wall had not been filled,
But we knew one day it will,
And if we join the air force, it could be use one the all.
At the Arboretum,
We saw lots of things,
We saw lots of different covered stones,
With the names of children,
That never lived a proper life,
We saw the statue of a baby lying on a stone
At the Arboretum,
We saw lots of things,
We saw the statue of the polar bear,
That people had made,
We saw the poems the girl and written,
When she was only a girl.
At the Arboretum,
We saw lots of things,
We saw statues and benches,
In memory of people who had died,
We saw people who were very emotional and loving,
For their husbands, brothers, children or friends.
We saw all of those things,
At the Arboretum,
But there were many more things we did not see too,
They will always be in our memories.
Anon 03
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A Single Magpie of Sorrow
A single magpie of sorrow,
seeks its soul mate,
from the leafless, lifeless tree.
But joy lies dead,
head and limbs and,
feathers of fearless flight,
twisted and tortured,
amongst the bodies of the boys,
the gloriously slaughtered boys,
broken and betrayed by the battle.
By H S-D
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A BROKEN HEART
A baby’s like a glisten in your eye,
until it goes to heaven; up in the sky,
tears of sadness that were one hope,
Oh, why our baby, how will we cope?
Tears are shed but memories will stay,
Drops of hope are taken away,
You’ll always have a place in our hearts,
Nothing at all can tear us apart.
This special message of love to you,
Has been put somewhere for you to approve,
You’re now in the sky with the stars and moon,
What a special life that has been taken too soon.
By Emily Canning, 8H
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