My eyes are the golden sparkes spitting out a fire
My voice is the sound of dodging bullets
My hair is the burning house next door
My spine is the street of ripped down houses
My fingers are the shivering children shouting for help
And all children get out of my sight, for I am the BLITZ !!!
This really made me understand the fears of the people and what day-to-day life must have been like. A fantastic poem Emily! Mrs S
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