48
Our Waste Land
by Allie Williams
and George Lumley
The library is the quietest place, breeding
Information, Inspiration into the pupils, mixing
Study and a desire to learn, stirring
Dull minds, with opportunity.
Teachers warm our brains, covering
Us with unforgettable knowledge, feeding
A little life, into dull theory.
Summer always surprises us, coming quickly, exams approach,
With a shower of revision; before nervously taking our place in the convent
Name, signature, numbers on the cover, one last hour
"No headphones, ear devices or mobile phones," a foreign
Yet familiar voice again reminds us
And then my final exams are over,
New-found freedom prevails
Back into lessons, but revision no more,
Sports, activities, friends it's the summer!
And I was happy; it had all gone so quick
One more year and we will be saying uni,
Uni, hold on tight, for next year's ride
Could determine our lives.
So they say in continued careers advice.
But what if we lose our feet, what if we fail,
Where will we go then? Son of man,
You cannot be sure, or take a chance, for you know only if you have done enough,
A heap of broken memories may be left,
And the end of term reports will give no shelter, parents no relief,
And the empty feeling in your stomach will provide no comfort. Only
There is light under this failure,
And I will show you something different,
From your Housemaster in the morning shouting your name
Or friends in the evening giving you grief,
I look for help in all that is lost.
Holy, holy, holy Lord
Heaven and earth are full of your glory.
Hosanna in the highest.
Blessed is He who comes in the name of the Lord.
Hosanna in the highest.
Yet when we listened, we find no guidance,
Your arms do not comfort or navigate,
Are we living or dead, I feel nothing,
Staring into the future, confused.
Among the works 61 pupils
encountered as potential inspiration
for their own creative writing, was
The Waste Land by T S Eliot