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Ruby Oct 29
When i was young you sat on a bench not a tree-
In a basket of wicker and plastic.
Swarms of jam covered fingers snatching and clawing at your freckled flesh.
I wanted to catch you but never could , you were always swept away into the belly of a child.

As we put pencils down
and our little leather shoes stepped from carpet to tarmac
A race began
"Free food" we chant when the sun hits 10
But it's too late. The pears have been eaten.

And when i walked home , my belly was all empty.
I looked up to my mother and I asked for pears.
'you wont eat them all in time'
I sighed
But i will mother or the other kids will eat them first.
This was just a quick little poem as i was feeling nostalgic of the fruit and veg we would receive at break time in my First school.
Ruby Oct 29
The appreciation of others lives is interrupted by an advert.
Their online presence which plays like a sequence of a dream
A constant flow of images and words. A film of poetry.

I think. What if everything was interrupted by an advert? A non-stop of unnecessary and unwanted reminders to snap out of whatever we focus and rely on to get us through our day.

It's hurtful. I want to live through the videos of beautiful people , I don't want to be prevented from being comforted by capitalistic crap.

— The End —