My Sort Of Hell

• Brooke Forsyth, Grade 10, Toogoolawah State High School
• Poetry
• 2014

Excellence Award in the 'The Text Generation 2014' competition

I walk the halls of Hell's playground
my books clutched in my arms
the bell rings in my ears and then
I stop there in alarm.
They come up to me and laugh their laughs,
and point and push and sneer.
My books are sprawled across the floor,
I'm cold from shame and fear.
I walk alone back to home
and laugh at my foolish self
I sit in the corner with my shadow
and dread tomorrows Hell.
Before I cry myself to sleep
I compare me to Pharaoh's slave.
The others see no difference still,
so I dream my future grave.