A Poem for a Pandemic
Once upon a time, there would have been life on this street,
Places to go and people to meet.
The school would be full of chattering kids,
Asleep out of boredom with dropping eyelids.
A long time ago, the shelves would be stacked,
In the aisles of the shops which would all be packed.
Swimming through the sky would be low flying planes,
Zooming above the very late trains.
At any time, you could go see a friend,
Or the family could go out for a city weekend.
Plans could be made so far in advance,
Cause you knew it wouldn’t be cancelled. There was just no chance!
But now things are different – they’re not quite the same.
The roads are not full and it feels like a game.
The streets are deserted and the school is a shell.
Everyone is strange, acting under some spell.
There’s a queue for the shop – hardly anything left,
Anyone’s a suspect, like they’ve committed a theft.
We can’t see our friends cause we’re all stuck inside,
And a plea for escape is quickly denied.
The floor is lava and the walls are too,
One touch and you’re a huge pile of goo.
The hospitals just can’t cope with the number,
Of patients admitted in such a deep slumber.
You could believe that they’re dead part from the soft heartbeats,
And the air being pumped beneath the unwashed sheets.
You look at the stars in the clear night sky,
And a tear rolls down your cheek from your eye.
The news brings more numbers of death every day,
And you wonder if there will ever be a way,
That things could return to what they once were.
Something could happen and it would all occur.
First would be families together again,
Then patients going home with no more pain.
School would be back – an unfortunate addition,
But friends could be seen, bliss is the definition.
Alas, we’ll be here for a while,
Which gives me some time to go and compile,
A series of poems and stories and love,
That future historians will ponder the meaning of.
Like with the wars, the records will be kept,
Locked in files where they’ll have slept,
For many years till they’ll be released,
The crumpled papers worn and creased.
This writing here upon the page,
Will indeed grow and age,
But what has happened in this year,
Will be remembered loud and clear.
Never will the world forget,
This huge pandemic, this killer threat.
For we will make completely sure,
That this event is never obscured.
By Julia – Year 9
Heroes by Ben R, 7S/A1
This is a virus that kept us apart
Walls and boundaries.
Lockdown, high cases
Who do we turn to?
When we’re in critical care
They’ve looked after us.
No need to say there inspirational
Who do they turn to?
Through hopes and despair
Loses and tragedies.
Who do we turn to?
Thinking of our NHS staff, key workers and carers
In this difficult time.