Wednesday 16 April 2014

It's Not Easy Being A Cushion

Our class has been creating some poems about an object they've chosen, and we write how they feel if they were that  object. I hope you like my work. :)
It’s Not Easy Being A Cushion


It’s not easy being a cushion,
everyone sits on me every school week
Dirty fingers touching me,
leaving grease, sand and dirt behind.


I wish I could talk but for some reason I can’t
being only one shape for the rest of my life,
I hate the colour I am at the moment,
It’s hard to breath when I have no mouth or nose.
When school is over, I get left on the floor or usually somewhere up high
does nobody know I’m afraid of heights?


Sometimes I’m a chew toy for dogs,
and a disc for older kids to throw in the air.
When I get spinned around I get a bit sick and turn green, but only in my mind.
I wish kids and adults wouldn’t sit on me and squash me all the time.


It’s not easy being a cushion :’(  

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