A wee little pig I have become,
My mind wallows in mud and scum,
Hairs that sprout from my chinny-chin-chin,
Bulging flesh and stretching skin,
With fragile walls too easily blown
By the big bad wolves I long have known,
As weak as sticks or straw, my heart,
Too used to being torn apart.
Please shield me with your house of bricks,
Protect me from life’s cruellest kicks,
A place to which my heart can roam,
And a love to carry me all the way home.
Emma H, age 26, 14/08/2017