Year 6 – Poetry









We have been looking at how we can use facial features to portray a character’s feelings. We read a few poetry examples, shared our thoughts and opinions on them, analysed the features, created a tool kit and then listed a bank of ideas so we could practise writing a few lines of our own. Here a few of the children’s lines and this was only the second day!


I am the bleak freckles that stand forlorn on a lament face,  just wishing to laggardly fade away into nothingness. 

I am the drooping hair that disturbingly shakes off the unforgettable agony that is digging into you brutally, like a glacial winter’s day. 

I am the mournful tears that constantly slither down your crestfallen cheek, along the path of somber. 

I am the downcast eye that searches for a way to get rid of the imperishable melancholy that reaches inside you and sucks out all joyfulness that can be found. 

I am the glowering mouth that has never once shown a single smile, I am the mouth to pain, the mouth to darkness, the mouth to indestructible fear that looms everywhere. 


I am the wisps of hair that stand against the oncoming hordes of sadness – buying time for happiness,

I am the eyes that now transform into an endless ocean of tears,

I am the solitary tear that traipses down your youthful cheek and descends to my doom,

I am the melancholy eyelashes, forcing the tears to disperse from your cold eyes.

I am the cloud of despair, seeping through the pores of your skin.


I am a tear of sorrow dissolving into a face of inconsolable grief.

I am the lock of her hair drowning in the River of sorrow.

I am the colourless eye that has a shield of water around it so no one can see its true form.

I am the eyebrow that descends down to the eyelash to where it just meets.

I am the throat of anger as it holds back so many tears that it looks unbearable.


I am the isolated tear that traipses down your cheek – like a soldier trudging through an endless battle field,

I am the solemn eye posing as a distant shipwreck,                                                                                               

I am the youthful cheek that is the gentle pathway for the faithful journey of an icy tear,                            

I am the bulging throat trying to cope with the emotional meltdown,

I am the frown pouting in waves of sorrow.


I am the first tear shed when you cut your finger on a shard of glass from your Grandma’s vase.  

I am the cheerless lips slowly turning down after a dear loss diminishing you to tears.  

I am the reflective glassy eyes; they are never ending realms of misery.  

I am the furrowed eyebrows, fiercely opposing the thought of a school bully hurting a lonely child.  

I am the dry throat, making you choke on your words, your mouth freeze and your voice hoarse.  

I am the discoloured cheeks of a small child, forlorn and sad, hoping someone will notice, not that there is much hope.  

I am the taught skin, tensed, waiting for whatever is going to hit me to inflict the tormenting pain upon me.  

I am the somber, loosely flowing hair of a despairing girl, hanging down over her shoulders, the blonde tips soaked from a steady stream of tears almost ,always flowing down her face.  


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