Posts Tagged ‘scared’


I’m in the new flat. It’s so different to the old house, smaller, no gardens, just bricks. Outside it’s rows and rows of houses. Big, small, terraced, semis, detached. Houses of all shapes and sizes with equally different and diverse families in them. It’s all so different to what I’m used to, to what I know. It’s overwhelming my senses having to learn a new area, meet new people, start life all over again. It’s all I can do to just get out of bed. I’m finding it difficult to cope, don’t know what to do or who to turn to. I pull the duvet over my head and take comfort in the dark. I’m happy now.


We’re moving. Moving away from everything I know, everything I understand. Mum and dad have a new job the other side of Bradford. It’s a long way from where I live now. Will I see any of my friends ever again? I’m overwhelmed with emotion’s, but I can’t express them. I stand there worried, scared, confused. I don’t fully understand what is happening or why. The future is scary especially when it’s so uncertain.


A short story of my little adventure yesterday.

It starts fine my run round Midgely Moor. I feel good and I’m running well. I’m alone on the moors and I’m enjoying it. I follow the route up and over High Brown Knoll, down to Warley Moor Reservoir and up the bog following the fence. Then it all goes wrong, very wrong. I climb over the stile and head for the stones at the top of the moor. Except that today I can’t see them because the fog has descended on the moor and the layer of grey mist is all there is here. I think I’m following the right path, I see some stones and head for them believing I am on the right path. But I’m not. I walk around the moors for 5 long miles through ankle deep water and knee high tussocks getting more lost and confused with each step. I hear voices but cannot see anyone. Are these the voices of the dead who got lost on these moors and come out when the fog hides them? I pass the stones again and realise I am alone on the moors, lost in a blanket of fog with only the voices of the dead calling out to me. I keep seeing a path only to get close and realise it’s just grass of a different colour. Is this it I wonder? Is this where my life ends alone on the moors, exhausted, confused, scared. I pass the stones again and head in a straight line, it’s my only hope of getting off the moor. I come out of the fog and I can see where I am as the air clears around me. In the distance I can see a path, this is much clearer than the others. I head over the moor and finally get to the path. I can get home now back to the warmth and safety of my home and away from the moor that wants to eat me up.


it’s a cold but sunny morning. Mum has left me on my own at school for the first time. I’m alone. Teachers and children run around, shouting and screaming. I’m lost. I know where I am but not what I’m supposed to do. I walk to the playground and the bullies see their chance and attack me, kicking me to the floor. I’m surrounded by them, all looking down at me. No one comes to help me, no teachers or children. I’m truly alone now in a mass of people. They call me names, mummies boy, softy, they keep coming. Then the beating starts, more kicks and still no one helps me. The bell goes for the start of lessons and I’m alone, lying on a cold, tarmac playground, looking up at a clear, blue sky. Everyone has gone inside, teachers, children, bullies. I get up, brush the dirt off my legs and go inside to my lesson. They knew I was different. I didn’t know I was. I never tell anyone about the bullying, I never forget it though.

watching

Posted: November 12, 2016 in poem, poetry, Uncategorized
Tags: , , , , ,

she hears a noise
behind her
did she snap
that twig
or is there something
else in the woods
watching her…