Vile Kisses And Wilted Daisies

The hair on her head smells like a cherry tree,
Her kisses stain with velvet,
Her hands were as soft as freshly melted butter,
And smelt like peppermint tea,
She gave you a look that could end wars,
And make daisies grow.
But the daises had wilted,
The war had started again,
And her kisses tasted vile,
From the words that died on her lips,
She didn't think she could ever be so hurt,
Until she saw the way you looked at her.


25 was established in 1997, and since then we have successfully completed numerous short story and poetry competitions and publications.
We receive an overwhelming positive feedback each year from the teachers, parents and students who have involvement in these competitions and publications, and we will continue to strive to attain this level of excellence with each competition we hold.


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