6/10/16 Poetry - Tommy Donbavand

Messages through time

Deep in a dungeon

Lives a stranger, all alone

He owns no possessions

Just a pillow and a 'phone

And if you dial correctly

Get the stranger on the line

He'll reveal your future life

For he can see through time

Views: 81

Comment by WP Central on October 6, 2016 at 6:57

He will tell your future

But for a price

A finger and a toe

And possibly your soul….

The phone will ring once

Then twice it goes 

If three times it happens 

Then you shall never know

Your true future.

Brice A. , Cole, Simon, Curtis J, Carmel Hill Fund Education Program, Louisiana

Comment by Annalise Taylor on October 6, 2016 at 9:23

But the future is what he holds

you need to know your future

so you lose and steal,

the true price of a chicken’s feet,

your best friend's finger that you paid about a gillion for.

He will tell you the future.

So be prepared for what is happening.

You want to know how many cats you're going to own

and dogs that like bones

It’s the  future the man holds and you need it really bad.

Africa and Maasyah, International Community School, London

Comment by Nicola Gowing on October 6, 2016 at 11:09

He asks for his pay

When the future is told

You give him your soul

You instantly turn old.


You stare at him in astonishment

“That, my child, is part of the deal

I take your soul

And your future, I steal”.

You look at your hand

It’s wrinkly with age

“I want my soul and my life back”

You shout with rage.


“Again there is a price”

He said with a malicious grin

“But what do you have that I want?”

He said to himself, stroking his chin.

Britney, Great Yarmouth High School, UK

Comment by Simone Pope on October 6, 2016 at 12:18

Messages through time

Deep in a dungeon

Lives a stranger, all alone.

His name, his features, left unknown

A blank slate, grey as clouds

On a stormy day.

He speaks to walls, they make him stay -

There is no space. He’s left to waste.

Here in his dungeon, his desolate space.

He yearns for the sky, but shall not lie.

He likes it here, he cannot die.


Its winter now, he’s getting cold.

Every day, more frail and old.

He cries out loud, pleading for freedom

Though he knows no one will free him.


He wishes for hope

He struggles to cope.

He brings the knife to his wrist

He fought for his life

But he fades to the mist.



By Kai, Dean and Max, Woolmer Hill School, Haslemere, UK



Comment by Ruan Peat on October 6, 2016 at 13:48

When you dial the number

the stranger gets to work.

Trying to find your future

and telling you on your phone

So be ready

When you hear you have to be happy

you have to say thank you

if not he will change your future

change forever

by Ivor, Zack and Alister, Wick High School

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