The Emmigrants Suitcase
By Ella Morrison, 2nd year.
I stand at Waterloo quay,
Waiting for a ship to bear me to Germany,
I hear the swish swash of the waters,
The wailing of young brown Otters
I study the rough, grey, angry sea,
Bracing myself for the dangers ahead of me,
Mothers and Fathers worried sick,
When they see the boats nick,
The Jeanie Johnson arrives at the dock,
I become worried and freeze like a block,
Starvation and hunger my face 180 days,
Still no glimpse of land or any bays,
My suitcase full of meaningful treasures,
Cards, letters, jewels, books and pictures,
The sight of land awakens us all,
Leaving the Johnson standing tall.
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