Rockbrook Park School

Art by Marta Barcikowska


What Love Gives

Love will get you far
Love will follow your car to end of the starry night
Love can come as a man named Samar
Love is a spark that can brighten your dimly-lit sanctuary.

Love gets you joy and hardship
Love brings you everlasting memories
Love has solution and sacrifice
But lastly, Love has happiness.


Jammy Biscuit Tin

Once upon a time is where stories began
The reality stops, and the illusion begins
In a cold dark room where the walls are paper thin
And the truth creeps out of the jammy biscuit tin.
The shadow of truth glistens in the sun
And its meaning obscured to any single one
Popularity seeks but humanity finds
A way to amplify the voice inside your mind.
The people are talking, and the crowd is looking
Looking for a cause and not for applause
Speaking proper facts without their proper meaning
And a jammy biscuit tin without any feeling.

Popularity seeks but humanity finds
To break free from illusion and stay less blind.



Love will slowly kill you
It will make you bleed heavily
The blood will form a river
For others to drink from.
The pain will last forever
Like a fever
The pain will be so severe
It will never go away.
It’s time to sleep
Without the sound of a beep
And to take off with my love
In a jeep.



In the quiet of the night
The stars twinkle bright
The moon casts its glow
On the world below.
The trees rustle and sway
As the wind blows its way
The crickets and cicadas sing
As the night wears on, everything.
Is at peace, calm and serene
No worries, no stress, no scene
Just the beauty of nature’s song
All night long.
But as the dawn breaks through
The spell is broken, the night is through
But in my heart, the peace remains
Until the quiet of night comes again.


The Beginning

I come from the Countryside, where it all started,
No noise like the city just the peep of the birds.
From the strong stink of slurry and narrow roads,
And the old people complaining why nothing is like the old,
High in the hills looking over the big smoke,
With the city expanding unlike long ago,
Fields turned apartments and farms turned streets,
My homeland is getting closer to the land of the beast.


The Label

Like my siblings I have a name tag in my family,
The responsible one, the careless one, the lazy one,
My actions don’t change my brand,
No matter how responsible I act my true nature always corrects itself.
A label so bland.
I can never sit still in front of a book,
memorising sentences for a test,
I end up spewing meaningless jumble and mess.

Sometimes I get uncomfortable sitting still,
and I get carried away distracting my mind
Sometimes I wish my parents understand me,
But I never confess.



The pen went through,
A clean cut in the dark,
The light leaked through,
A smooth clay dot appeared,
Born into the sharp,
Trapped in the system,
Moulded to fit in.

But I’m glad I found
Gym, gym, gym,
From there I arose,
I broke from the shackles that bind me,
Progress is like a slug,
Disgusting and slow,
But you will see that you can push much farther from the shackles that bind we.
Gym Gym Gym!



Seen her, mind’s distracted
Seen a stare, mind is racing
Can’t see, mind is foggy
Music, mine’s pretentious
Pretentious taste, mind’s clearing
Snowballing, thinking, finding reason
City lads, country school, ideas gone stale
City lads turned country, mind’s old
Reason why, mind’s new
No experience, reason why
Seen her, mind’s distracted.


My Life

This is my life, I’ll write it
I tried to be nice, I tried it
All of these guys, denied it
So many lies, I get by it
I’ve got to rise, through this garbage
My eyes on the prize, I’m vibing
I’ve learnt to despise, all this dying
This is my life, go try it.



A mighty wall of expectations, standards and hustle
To be scaled by children who know not of the struggle
Fought by people every day to take their award
Or face the shame from their parents that cuts like a sword
Climbing the wall is treated like a race
Where the less privileged constantly face
The likelihood of falling and scrapping their knees
Whilst the entitled fly in the air like bees
Over the wall to rest and feed
On a gift that they were told that they need.



Winter, the cold and snowy season
A time for hot cocoa and good reason
To curl up by the fire and stay warm
As the frost bites and the winds howl and swarm.
The trees stand bare, stripped of their leaves
Their branches reaching towards the sky like thieves
The ground is white, a blanket of snow
A canvas for children, ready to play and go.