• Vol. 02
  • Chapter 09
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I see them on their last day – tissues screwed in hands
coloured with felt tip pens - signing names on shirts
                        And I wonder.

I see them unsure and fearful – tears glittering and shining in
over-excited eyes - voices roaring with expectations and hopes
                        And I wonder.

I watch them collect their badges – symbols of honour lying
insouciantly around their necks – Olympic medals of success.
                        And I wonder.

I see them leap and shriek in the playground – composure
shrugged off with ties and blazers – same games always.
                        And I wonder.

I watch our harvest of sun-ripened children – under a sky
changing with the rapidity of their lives – and still they grow.
                        And I wonder.

I observe them relate to inspiring teachers – against all odds
of testing and yet more tests – their constant touchstone.
                        And I wonder.

I long to see if dreams and hopes will be realised – childhoods
in adult hands who shape and form – who make or break.
                        And I wonder.

I wait to see if they are cut down and let down – or survive and thrive in our manic world – swaying every which way with life.
                        And they must wonder too.