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8/10/15 Poetry Tommy Donbavand 1 http://www.tommydonbavand.com

The Barber of Seville Street

He wraps the cape around me

The opposite way to that of a superhero

Superman uses his to fly

Mine will just catch hair

I want to sit in the seat that’s shaped like a car

But I’m too big now

And the handful of sweets left in the bottom of that jar

Look horrible

He slips the silver scissors into his silk shirt pocket

Then fires up the electric trimmer

Goodbye my lovely, precious hairs

You’re all about to die

Views: 70

Comment by Charlotte de Gruchy on October 8, 2015 at 8:17

It really isn't fun to be here
Snip, Snap, Chop, Slice
The golden brownness on the floor;
The barber’s gleaming eyes, so vicious and intimidating.

My hair was long; now it's long gone – it’s taken years to grow
How could my parents punish me like this?
In the mirror the barber approaches
"Short back and sides…" he mutters, cackling.

"NO!" I plead, but he’s already started.
I close my eyes and hope for the best,
When will this torture end?
Soon I hope.

Please make this quick.


Chiara and Ruby, International School Of Cape Town

Comment by Alison murtha on October 8, 2015 at 9:54

The itching starts at my collar

Then spreads to my newly revealed ears

Down my chilling spine, the itch gathers speed

As it begins to cover my entire body,

 

Will this ever end?

Class 2, Cockwood School, England

Comment by Nicola Gowing on October 8, 2015 at 11:19

 ...

 The icy sensation tickles the nape of my neck,

Hair that was once there, now sits solemnly upon the wooden floor,

Staring at me with his arrogant eyes

Like a deadly monster formed from the darkness of my soul,

Removed from my naked head,

Exposing all of my inner-most thoughts.

 

Each strand of my hair which once protected me;

Protected me from the vampire urging to feast upon my neck,

Protected me from the sharp wind piercing my ears like a needle,

Protected me from bystanders able to see my real self,

(And my big forehead).

 

My hood up, my head down

I scurried into the school gates avoiding the evil glances and sniggers,

Names thrown at me like children throwing a tantrum,

“EGG HEAD!”  “You look like a potato!!!”

It carried on and on.

 

…..

 

A tear subconsciously rolled down my cheek,

The reflection of the mirror shone in my eye,

I opened my eyes to reveal…

 

 

 

By Phoebe, Keeley & Leanne - Great Yarmouth High School

Comment by Jayne Davidson, WHHS, UK on October 8, 2015 at 12:50
I am unrecognisable,
You can hardly tell it’s me.
The fear I felt earlier,
Has all melted away.
Tomorrow is a new beginning,
Tomorrow is a new day.
I quite like my new trim,
It suits me well.
My eyes are more pronounced,
They sparkle, staring back at me like stars in the sky.
The shadow over my face has lifted…

By Annabelle and Brandon,
West Hatch High School.
Comment by Rosie Pike on October 8, 2015 at 14:37

As my courage builds

The creaking door opens,

Out comes a gasp

From my sister of my own

Just a comb in her grasp

Out she went slamming the door,

With her long brown hair

She looked like aboar.

Well that hurt my feelings in rather a bad way,

My head becoming Rred,

My eyes full of tears,

What do I do now

for the rest of the day

Waiting for my hair to grow back again.

I want to look nice , not like a hen !

Daniel, Will and Michael

Bishop's Stortford College

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