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The following poems could be considered to be thought provoking:


In the bleak cold parkland

An alternative carol set in a modern era nativity scene
In the UK every year, several men, women and children still live rough and hungry on the streets
or in very inadequate, damp and cold housing or temporary shelters.

In the bleak cold parkland,
Men they gather there.
Earth stands hard as iron,
Winds they chill the air.
Women, children join them,
In their homes of card.
Winters getting colder,
Frosts are setting hard.
In the bleak cold parkland,
All are gathered round,
Sheltering a mum in labour,
As snow comes tumbling down.
In the bleak cold parkland
On that special morn
A present for all people,
A baby boy is born.
From that bleak cold parkland,
Words begin to sound.
From the streets and doorways,
More people do abound.
In the bleak cold parkland,
A baby for to see.
Wrapped in old blankets,
A saviour soon to be.
What can I give him?
Poor as I am,
In this bleak cold parkland,
Hungry, cold I stand.
In this bleak cold parkland,
As snows falls from above
This is what I give him,
Give Him my love.

This poem is available to perform as a short drama sketch, please ask if you'd like to perform it.


The silent scream

I'm safe, secure, protected with no fears, concerns or worries,
My kingdom lined with warmth grows with me day by day,
And even though it's very small, just try and turn me out.
But wait a minute!
I feel a mild disturbance.
Travelling towards me.
Trespassing in my territory,
Dismantling my privacy.
Alert to change in atmosphere,
Impending danger now, I fear.
What's happening my conscience asks?
Aliens with claws!
Infiltrating my delicate defenses,
As bailiffs out to evict me.
I'm frightened, frenzied, in a daze,
My body has turned cold.
I've no weapons to do battle,
No chance to air my point of view.
No one witnessing my silent screams.
No place to hide or run away to.
Intimidated into retreat,
As the cavalry, they charge.
With no indication of emotion,
Their ferocious jaws.
They capture me.
Suppress and overthrow me.
Rip and penetrate my skin
And then destroy my tacit limbs.
Echoed cries sound out my doom
As blood flows freely from my wounds.
And then life terminates
Before I leave my station...

Click here to read a very deep and personal story and poem

Please note:  all poetry featured on this website is copyrighted and is not to be reproduced without permission or without crediting the source and author.
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