Emotions
by year 7 and 8 boys

This collection of poems is dedicated to Mrs Koheji for always encouraging us to be in touch with our emotions.

It is also dedicated to all of our form teachers - past and present - for helping us to deal with our day-to-day emotions.

7P and 8C boys

Anxiety 
By Elliot B 

It’s a purple scar 
Carrying all of your thoughts and doubts 
With you. 
It is 8 o’clock in the morning 
On your first day at school. 
Like winter frost, it chills your body 
To the very bone. 
It’s a dull percussion triangle  
reverberating in your head 
blurring all your happy thoughts. 
It’s like an old, leather sofa: forever rotting 
Just asking to be thrown away. 
Like a millipede, every segment of it 
Describing your worries. 
It’s a putrid smell, tearing through  
The walls of a derelict house. 
It makes your hands shake, 
you feel as if your whole world 
is crumbling. 
It is a taste that will never be forgotten. 

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Fear 
By Jonathan C 

Fear is jet black, 
It’s the void where it seems nothing,
but everything is there, 
everything, all and everything. 
Fear is the forest,
a green canopy with
the dark base unknown,  
Unknown, completely unknown. 
Fear is midnight,  
When the clocks strike twelve
and you can see nothing,  
nothing, nothing at all. 
Fear is October, the day of the dead 
The day, the day of the dead. 
Fear is the cold, the freezing;
so burning and burning so freezing 
Burning, burning so red but freezing. 
Fear devours the soul,
but the soul welcomes it with cold open arms.  
Cold, so cold

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DISAPPOINTMENT 
By William H 

It’s sickly yellow like cold, lumpy custard. 
It’s the morning alarm,
ordering me out of bed. 
Like damp rain at a summer picnic,
it spoils everything. 
Like a giant sloth casting a dark shadow
on the forest floor,
this feeling is casting its shadow over me. 
It’s a broken music box,
with its dancing ballerina 
No longer able to twirl. 

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Jealousy
By Misha P 

It’s a vulgar green colour, eating up your spine. 
An ear-piercing scrawny sound, 
Ruining your life, bit by bit. 
Unpredictable mornings in cold, bleak February, 
The dismay of your Valentine date. 

It’s an odd sheep getting glared at for its misery and 
Preposterous behaviour. 

It takes every part of your body  
and turns you down a horrible route, 
seeking revenge every day 
and wants you to fulfil its desire. 
It changes your feeling 
To envy 
And makes you seek revenge. 
It starts a new world for you. 

ANGER 
By Barney E 
 
Anger is a crimson red – like an open wound. 
It is the pitch-black midnight which deceives you. 
It is the swirling blizzards of December. 
 
Anger is an impeding tornado that ruins your life. 
It is a ferocious, deafening drum that rattles your skull. 
It is the oven burning; hot and blistering. 
 
Anger is a shark waiting under the surface, ready to pounce. 
It is the spicy inferno after eating a chilli. 
It is a ruthless, volcanic landscape. 
 
Anger is a stopwatch that will go off at any time. 
Anger is a force that shouldn’t be reckoned with. 

Embarrassment
By Jack O 

It’s the lurking, pale yellow that 
Shouts at the back of your mind. 
The slow transition from dark to light, 
Shedding light, 
Exposing your secrets. 

It’s the beginning of winter, 
When your surroundings seem  
dark and hopeless. 
The middle of a sandstorm, 
Trying to hit you. 

It’s a musty, ancient guitar, 
Abandoned, 
For its strings are missing. 

It’s the misplaced family heirloom, 
Untouched, 
But there for memories. 

It’s the multi-coloured, frilly bird 
That stands out from the crowd. 
The bitter taste. 
The mouldy scent  
that you can’t seem to locate. 

It’s the horrible thought 
Writhing around your head 
Leading to guilt  
and confusion. 

Disgrace 
By Jed G 
 
Disgrace, 
Like walking through the lonely autumn leaves. 
It’s an extinct dodo, 
Once the biggest excitement, 
But now just a few pages  
In a history book. 
 
It feels sour, 
Like the aftertaste of a bitter apple. 
Disgrace is the ‘untasteful’ peeling beige paint on a motel. 
Like a harmless and stealthy monster, 
Always there 
But never seen. 

Sadness 
By Oliver S 
 
It is blue and purple, 
A painful bruise, throbbing on your skin 
 
Like falling rain, 
Numbing your senses 
 
A slow melody 
Consuming your mind 
 
A dark, still sea, 
Drowning you 
 
So overwhelming, 
It imprisons you 
And you can’t get out.