Hard

• Ford Brodie , Grade 4
• Poetry
• 2021

As I wake up in my black and white world, I try and see the soft, I try to feel the soft, but then I realise what is soft? in this hard life, As I open the hard wooden door I walk to the kitchen, my mum says breakfast is ready, boiled eggs are handed to me on a hard metal plate, as I’m walking to school I see a dying rose on the hard wet concrete, then I witness the hard work in the hard walls in the hard school, as I’m walking home from school I see the innocent children playing in happiness, but they are yet to realise the hard depression of the hard world, as I step on the wet poach, I enter my hard wooden home and sit at the table, my mum calls dinner is ready, as I’m handed the same hard metal plate with the hard stale bread, I walk to my room, and open the same hard wooden door, I sit at my hard wooden desk and open the tons of book assignments I must do, After many hours of work I shut my eyes laying down, then I feel the softness in my warm bed.