The secret that we all are taught,
\nIs the way to be, is just not us.
\nIt\u2019s just beyond what we can be,
\nThis secret that destroys our young.<\/p>\n
If we could be with faces scarred,
\nLoved and cherished at our school.
\nWe would, I think, dissolve the lie,
\nThat all should be as we assume.<\/p>\n
To be how we perceive we ought,
\nIs to destroy the truth of being,
\nThose, who with their different faces,
\nWill challenge with their thoughtful ways.<\/p>\n
(Maresa Mac Keith, February 2004)<\/em><\/p>\n Playing in water How many remember this? Where do you hide you elusive childhood, Searching for meaning in the king\u2019s nursery, Childhood, they search for you too. The splendour of wonder, How long was that time? (Maresa MacKeith, February 2003)<\/em><\/p>\n He watches, and you are scared. (Maresa Mac Keith, March 2004)<\/em><\/p>\n The thought of starting was ecstatic, The thought of being ordinary, That same building for another is horrific, The girls with their makeup, were bored So for some it opened doors to learning, (Maresa Mac Keith, October 2003)<\/em><\/p>\n Who do you see sitting in that chair, \u2018Why does he live?\u2019 You ask. You wonder in your heart, A change you are so frightened of ? Let your wall melt, (Maresa Mac Keith, March 2004)<\/em><\/p>\n Kids who question who they are The one whose face is scarred; Who is there left (Maresa Mac Keith, February 2004)<\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Beauty The secret that we all are taught, Is the way to be, is just not us. It\u2019s just beyond what we can be, This secret that destroys our young. If we could be with faces scarred, Loved and cherished at our school. We would, I think, dissolve the lie, That all should be as […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3,"featured_media":0,"parent":2,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-85","page","type-page","status-publish","hentry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.one-for-all.org.uk\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/85","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.one-for-all.org.uk\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.one-for-all.org.uk\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.one-for-all.org.uk\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/3"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.one-for-all.org.uk\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=85"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/www.one-for-all.org.uk\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/85\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":86,"href":"https:\/\/www.one-for-all.org.uk\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/85\/revisions\/86"}],"up":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.one-for-all.org.uk\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/2"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.one-for-all.org.uk\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=85"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\nChildhood<\/h2>\n
\nWith sunshine on our backs.
\nSledging in snow
\nGloved hands and rosy cheeks.
\nStories round the fire
\nOr cuddled up in bed.
\nChildhood, do I remember you
\nOr are you a figment of my imagination?<\/p>\n
\nBoy soldiers
\nRefugees of war
\nThe institutionalised cripple.
\nDo they remember this time of harmony?
\nI doubt it.<\/p>\n
\nWhere is your home,
\nIs your existence a reality,
\nOr do you hide in the top branches of life\u2019s trees
\nFor no-one to find?<\/p>\n
\nThe royal child in his poverty of isolation.
\nHidden in the laboratory of specialness,
\nThe dumb mute,
\nAn interesting specimen who nobody wants to play with.<\/p>\n
\nWhy do you hide,
\nWhy are you so afraid to show yourself
\nYou glorious wondrous being?<\/p>\n
\nOf questioning,
\nOf water rippling,
\nOf shouts of laughter,
\nOf long days of companionship.
\nNever ending snoozes to wake up
\nWhen we want, for more happiness.<\/p>\n
\nThe eluding of memory hides truthfulness.
\nChildhood, are you time or state?<\/p>\n
\nFear<\/h2>\n
\nMute and flailing,
\nIf he could talk he would tell.
\nSo you silence him.<\/p>\n
\nMy School<\/h2>\n
\nI wanted to learn so much.
\nTo me the building was magic,
\nWith life in it\u2019s crumbling husk.<\/p>\n
\nFilled me with a joy I can\u2019t tell.
\nStill the thought of that building keeps memory,
\nFor me of pure water; a well.<\/p>\n
\nBeing told he was no good at all.
\nOr being bullied for some characteristic,
\nFor which at home he was loved the more.<\/p>\n
\nOf wearing white shirts with a tie.
\nSo theirs was relief to be shared,
\nThey will go from that school with a sigh.<\/p>\n
\nAnd for others it seemed just like hell.
\nIt is just the same old building,
\nDifferent memories there deep in its wall.<\/p>\n
\nPerception<\/h2>\n
\nDrooling the sap from his belly?
\nA blob that costs the tax payer dear.<\/p>\n
\n\u2018I would ask to die if I were he.\u2019
\nDo you question his thoughts?<\/p>\n
\nIf there\u2019s a person in there.
\nOne who watches, who thinks,
\nWho evaluates. Whose thinking
\nMight change the world.<\/p>\n
\nThere is no fear in losing your prison,
\nOf losing your right way.<\/p>\n
\nTo merge with the one whose head lolls.
\nHe can see to your core.
\nHe sees a good but frightened child.<\/p>\n
\nWhy?<\/h2>\n
\nAre usually those who don\u2019t quite fit.
\nWhy is this so?<\/p>\n
\nShe has to question why.
\nShe works hard
\nTo make the sense
\nOf world opinion
\nAbout who should die.<\/p>\n
\nWho thinks, and stays
\nAs one who fits,
\nAnd never feels he\u2019s wrong
\nTo be the way he is?<\/p>\n