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Meet our new Poet Laureate - Sophie!

Excitement is buzzing at SMHC as Year 9 student Sophie has been named Poet Laureate for National Poetry Day 2025.

The award follows a competitive contest open to all year groups, which showcased an impressive range of original and thought-provoking poems.

In the final round, Sophie and another talented student presented poems on the theme of “Play,” impressing the school with their insight and creativity. Students participated enthusiastically in the voting process, discussing the poems during tutor time before casting their votes.

Reflecting on her achievement, Sophie said, “I’m really pleased to have been voted as this year’s Poet Laureate. I love writing, and I’m really excited to create more pieces for the school this year.”

Sophie takes over from last year’s Poet Laureate, Isabelle, and is already inspiring pride across the school. We look forward to seeing the creative poetry she will bring to the SMHC community in the year ahead.

Congratulations, Sophie! 

Sophie’s Poem:

Strings

I pull the strings a puppeteer unseen.

Crafting smiles where sorrow has been, 

Whispers weave webs, delicate, sly.

A flick of my tongue and trust runs dry.

 

Your heart a canvas, i paint with lies,

A masterpiece of tears in your eyes,

Promises bloom, then wither away,

A garden of grief where shadows play.

 

I wear a mask, a face so kind,

Yet beneath it all, a fractured mind.

Each word i speak, a calculated art,

To twist and turn the human heart.

 

I watch you dance to my silent tune,

Under the sun, beneath the moon.

Your laughter rings, but it’s not your own, 

A melody forged from seeds I’ve sown.

 

But in the quiet, when night descends,

The echoes of guilt begin to bend.

For every string I’ve pulled with care,

Leaves a mark, a scar laid bare.

 

I thought control would make me whole,

But it’s left a hole within my soul.

The strings I hold, now tether with me tight,

A prisoner of my own dark plight.

 

So here I stand, the master, the fool.

A lonely king with a broken rule.

For hearts are not toys, nor life a game,

And I am consumed by my own shame.