Congratulations to Year 6 pupil Isabella-Grace, who has been announced as the winner of the GDST Laurie Magnus Poetry Prize for Years 5 & 6 with her powerful poem ‘The Windrush’.

The prize was judged by Sydenham High School alumna and acclaimed poet Claudia Daventry:

“The Windrush is a worthy winner in this year group – of course the subject is already well-known, but it’s a strong story, delivered with a genuine passion. There is a simplicity to the rhyme scheme which seems to authenticate the voice: it feels honest and plausible, the rhymes simple and unfussy – deceptive in contrast with their message, which packs a powerful punch.”Claudia Daventry

Isabella-Grace’s thoughtful exploration of an important historical subject impressed the judges and stood out among many creative entries from across the GDST.

This is a fantastic achievement, and we are incredibly proud of Isabella-Grace for her talent, creativity, and poetic voice. You can read her winning poem  below:

‘The Windrush’ –  Year 5 & 6 Winner

I came when the sun kissed the sky,
A promise made, no reason to ask why.
With hope in my heart, I sailed so free,
But now at 80, they’re asking me to leave.

I fought for England, gave my youth,
In the wars, I stood for truth.
On battlefields, I bled and cried,
But now they say, “You don’t belong,” and they’ve denied.

I carried this land in my bones,
Built my life, made it my home.
But papers were never there to hold,
And now, at 80, I’m left out in the cold.

I gave my all, my strength, my pride,
Fought in the trenches, stood side by side.
But they never gave me the papers I earned,
Now I’m told, “Leave, go, return.”

I built their cities, helped them stand,
Worked their fields, and healed this land.
But now they say I’m not one of them,
After all I’ve given, they forget again.

I fought in the fields, sailed through the sea,
Now they say I’m nothing, can’t you see?
At 80, they push me out the door,
A soldier, a worker, now ignored.

It’s so unfair, it’s a bitter sting,
After all I’ve done, they clipped my wing.
I should have papers, a rightful claim,
But they left me empty, in a sea of shame.

Now, at 80, they say I’m too late,
No place for me in this unfair state.
I gave them my youth, my sweat, my tears,
But now I face my greatest fears.

They owe me more than they’ll ever know,
But now they want me to go.
It’s cruel, it’s wrong, they’ve broken the trust,
And now they discard me, as if I’m dust.

Leave, disperse, that’s what they say.
They lied, right up today.
Papers gone, lives torn.
Promises broken, hearts worn.

We fought, we bled.
Now they want us dead.
No papers, no rights. Shut out from their sights.
We gave, they took. Now they close the book.
At 80, we fall. No place, no call.