Emma's poem
When I look at that old photograph,
Of 'me' with Mr and Ms Moon,
It makes me almost want to laugh:
How different I looked that afternoon!
My eyes pale, ringed and dead to the world,
My hair limp and long and enveloping
My fists bony and weakly unfurled.
My smile was only just developing.
It makes me sad to think I sat there alone:
Pale and white and so cold.
The instinct to fly free stolen from the known,
By those eyes that seemed oddly old.
But from Charlie, dear Charlie (without whom:
I wouldn't be in this wonderful bookshop
I'd be still trapped in that tomb)
I have learnt to look forward, and never stop.
Only my life is pretty prefect, free from harms.
I have my wonderful aunt, my beloved Nancy bird
(through whom I can feel my mother in my arms)
And my friends, of whose faults are unheard.
Friends. That word meaning joy brings me pain
(but only when I think about him)
Because I want to be more in vain,
So how can I see our future when its so grim?
Oh, Tanc: angel glowing in a storm,
How I admire, respect (…love) you.
Your eyes so bright and your smile so warm,
Are pierced, engraved to my heart: a tattoo.
I went out tonight on a venture (they're rare as I fret),
Dressed as a sparrow I soared off the drain.
I hoped the exhilaration would let me forget,
But then my wings were burnt by the rain
Maybe we just aren't meant to be,
Maybe I'm just too scared,
Maybe the future is too difficult to foresee,
Maybe at you I shouldn't have stared.
Before I realised the love that fate forbids,
I used to think me and Emilia on opposites did we dwell,
But now I realise that we're both scared little kids
Simply hidden in a different shell.