National Poetry Day Competition Winners

I step onto the stage, I smile on cue,
Pretending the light will guide me through.
Coldness lingers, but I still stand,
Finding the strength, I once had planned.
They clap, they watch, but they never see
The truth behind the script of me.
I said my lines, I played my part,
But still I’m lost in the mirror of my heart.

I have a lot of things to say, but I won’t,
Because I know it’s going to hurt to see
What’s taken from me flash before my eyes,
As I never thought it would be this harsh.
I just wanted love, support and control
But the script demanded another role.
So I act, I bend, I break on cue,
And tell myself this is what actors do.

Hope was my prop, fragile and thin,
A spotlight to cover the cracks within.
I whispered lines I’d long outgrown,
Performing love I’d never known.

Now I must move on, grow stronger,
Otherwise the sun will wait for longer
To seize the day after the rain drops,
When I wish for nothing but hope as my final source.
I hope I believe, I hope I will change,
But hope was a dream that felt out of range.
I wasted my time on an act never noticed,
On silence, on coldness, and on love left devoted.

When silence held me, with nothing to say,
Your coldness and unwillingness echoed that day.
Yet hope for our love still refuses to part
The same way it lingers, carved deep in my heart.
I have so much to say, but I keep it inside,
For speaking would hurt me far more than I hide.
I know I should’ve left it all behind,
But do you still not see what echoes in my mind?
The coldness in your heart, the unwillingness so loud.

I hope for the sun after rainfall appears,
For silence to soften the weight of my fears.

Do I chase what’s lost, or build something new
Never wanted by anyone but you?
Do I seize the day, or grow stronger?
Do I cry, or do I ask for longer?
It’s strange to feel this way, to forget,
But one day, hopefully, I’ll end this duet.
To forget how I used to be,
Because I know it’s never going to be me.

The audience fades, but I still stay,
Repeating scenes that won’t decay.
Did I lose my part, or miss my cue?
Was this tragedy written, or something I grew?

Silence becomes my final act,
The echo of words I can’t retract.
Applause is hollow, the curtain frays
I’ve played too long, in too many plays.

Do you see how the sun seizes the day,
As the sky fades out and the rain drifts away?
We’ll see the light, and we’ll still go on,
Till the last of our lines are spoken, then gone.

Winning means loud, and winning means loss
Do I want all the chaos, or the life I once sought?
Or did I just want to be heard, not blurred,
And maybe one day, I’ll walk away
No longer the actor,
But myself in the play.

Once we played beneath gold sun,
Laughter spilled like rivers run.
Dreams were bright as summer sea,
Now they fade to distant memory.

Power plays and shadows grow,
Fields once green now faintly glow.
Children’s games replaced by fight,
Daytime swallowed by the night.

Still , a spark beneath the grey
Whispers softly, we can play.
If the fields still hold their pain,
Maybe life will rise again.

“My poem 'Play' reflects on the loss and fear faced by South African farmers, while talking about the hope that life in South Africa will return and peace can rise again.” 

Playtime at the park is not fun anymore,
Children stay children – always asleep on the floor.
Footsteps scatter. No. It’s not fun.
For now the sirens start where games once begun.

We’re told too much - “Now don’t you worry.
they’re just anxious, different - now to school – hurry!”
But each day, one more fades
chalk dust echoes where they once played.
Fathers cry, mothers yearn
And still, you don’t learn.

Please, I plea, it’s not “normal”.
Don’t let them hide behind what sounds formal.

Playtime at the park is not fun anymore,
no, it’s not because the world’s a bore.
Stop it - its time, we’re all ready.
the swings are empty, waiting steady.
the park sighs softly, haunted by its loss,
a silent witness – counting the cost.