Making Friends With Stemly

• Emily Craig, Grade 7
• Poetry
• 2016

The tall, black gates slam shut as another one of us crashes on the old, rusted park bench,
facing a dilapidated brick wall.
The dark, extreme dungeon holds secrets, lies and objects of which one could be ruined.
Detention Recreation Club, ages you out and rushes through the blood vessels and into your brain.
I always dreamt of a flower, not a flower that is black with dead leaves, but a flower with orange, white and red, with a gorgeous, green stem!
The bright colours shone on my face as those huge, black gates trapped me from stemly, my wonderful flower.
Me, on the opposite side of Stemly, couldn’t take the gruesome behaviour any longer.
I leapt up out of the tall gates as a bunch of DRC staff raced at me as if the world was about to end.
I ripped Stemly out of the ground and her wonderful colours dripped through my fingers and shriveled up through my fingertips.
At last, I WAS Stemly!