2015 School Magazine

50 SECONDS OF UNREQUITED LOVE GRACE CROWLEY (12O)

THE AFTERMATH ZOE MCDONALD (12B)

To the boy on my bus, (aisle across and two rows ahead),

I wish the one-point-two metres dividing us did not feel so much like an ocean;

And in the aftermath She shall go to the window In beams of mercury, and find His promise of love in the winking stars. She cleans the shelves out, and With the autumn rain Comes dead leaves of saffron Whilst the winter rolls ‘round again.

wish the doldrums would dissipate and allow me to sail across the expanse of lino and land at your shores.

I wish you could sense how tantalisingly close our two red threads of fate are to being fastened in a lover’s knot, intertwined like fingertips. But this ship remains motionless, the red threads dangle, alone. You, my prince, are never going to chase after me when I leave my slipper behind on the bus. You’re a pipedream, flooded with wasted expectations . You’re a disposable fantasy - erasable and replaceable. You’re fifty fleeting seconds of a racing heart and sweaty palms. Fifty flickering seconds

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And in the aftermath He shall go to the window In rays of molten gold And wonder, what broke?

Sunbeams fall like rain In rustling tree boughs And he sits in the two chairs by the window But one is empty now.

of a candle flaring fiercely,

snuffed out by circumstance.

CREATIONS