Yellow, are they lemons?  I cannot tell. Perhaps it was by accident,Bringing us here with those picturesin the frames and those words on the wallsClean and white and shiny,The only noise is industrialNo birds nor mice to break the noiseCharlotte St Cuthberts

Glaring eyes peek through oversized bowsAnd frowns tell me not askSmall puddles of their childhood stain the concreteAt the corrugated school in WellesleyTaylor – St Cuthberts

In a place that's newIt speaks of oldAmazing things we should beholdThe picture, even the old artReminders of the ancient heartThe heart of old NZ

This stuff was gone, it was stored where we couldn't see itIt scares me because its the old NZWere we really like this?Did we wear these things?Everything changed, nothings newWhere is old NZ?Melanie MacDonald Baradene College

The buildings tower over the treesBut nature still sneaks throughThe tarmac and brickAre over powered by greenWindows stretch forward, without meetingSmoke wisps away and pictures show the idealised peacethat may have never beenPathways lead to somewhere shielded by the treesAnd the ladybird looks unnatural on wooden stool The untouched landInterspersed with trucks.Laura St Cuthberts

I can breath on this side of the glassZen, balanceGeometric worldLines circles and curvesKelly Baradene College

A place of the newwithin a place of the oldThe calming surrealness trappedin the rush of the livingtranquillity where there is rushBaradene College

In a place that's newIt speaks of oldAmazing things we should beholdThe picture, even the old artReminders of the ancient heartThe heart of old NZ

This stuff was gone, it was stored where we couldn't see itIt scares me because its the old NZWere we really like this?Did we wear these things?Everything changed, nothings newWhere is old NZ?Melanie MacDonald Baradene College

Lost faces stand against a grey undisturbed quietwandering footprints etched sneakily on the floorDo they lead to that stairway of mystery?A bold escape from the frantic silhouettes outside

Shy scrunched up impatient facesinnocent eyes that pass not judgmenttidy little blousesribbons in their hairSarah Laycock Baradene College

In the house of history, you would shiverand shake at such a sight.  Cold hard steel poles surround you as you try to fleeThoughtless faces starring blankDavid Deng - Takapuna Grammar

Shards of sunlight take routineshallow waves in uniformunusual summer good weathered dayruined by my own dismayMaddy Farrell Takapuna Grammar

Blank Faces stare as I seek the answers to their emotionsBitter neatness hides the colours of the truthand leave my aching brain to find the smiles lurking beneathRiyah Walter - Takapuna Grammar

Bare tree branches pierce the blue skyDark clouds linger meaningless, watchingRain will come, but when?Will the suns arms dry it with their brightness once moreOr are they sleepy, like the lazy flag waving at the wind

As smoke pours from a chimneyof a threatening brick buildingI don't know what goes on in therebut I’m not sure I want toEvie Talbot - Takapuna Grammar

Modern building, new filled with booksCurious faces sit on white plasticPens scribble on paper with different strokesDisplayed are electronics and old photos on black and white canvasMaria Brock Takapuna Grammar

I sit close to the groundmy back is to the windowsthe black wall in front of mereflects the speeding streetthe hum of the buildingblends in with wheels on the roadI turn to watch the trafficthe sun bounces off a white Uteand a police car flashes past in checksI look up the ceilingthe wired lights shinewith metal grating against the concrete panelsit looks like a warehousewith a wall of windows and an industrial roofI cant see how this is a librarythere are photos of pre-war babiesand feathered Maori Chiefsbut books? None.Kate Thompson St Cuthberts

When a small crack appearsyou don't carewhen it shatters you ask what happenedCan one be faceless when they can still see, speak and breathe?What would you miss most if you couldn't see?One lost his shoes, one lost his lifeShe burnt her lips when she kissed the sunI wonder if the mice do acrobatics when we turn our backsIf i believed that red was blue would you have the heart to tell me the truthKatherine Wood - St Cuthberts

Steely concrete in captured moments passed.  An opening to another world with so many things to seeIt’s a different alienated place isolated from the moving worldChantelle Murray Baradene College

You're lonely on the bridge

Distressed by the inevitable

You can’t stop looking for him

Those ringlets and ribbons

From adoring mothers

Created puckered face

You are a smile floating in a sea of frowns

They didn’t know

White lace girl

Fringed furrowed brow looks down

Blushing lines of elegant separation

Glossy stick over lips and sweet little faces in bloom

Pinafore dresses and condiments on lips

No author

Sweet little faces and puffs of white linen

And starchy cotton unsuppressed

Except of the dark heavy peccavi eyes

Your stand in your lines

They are nothing but elegant separationNo author