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Child Sexual Exploitation is something that is not often talked about, and yet something very prevalent in the life of young children. Often it can start of as something innocent and small and sometimes it can grow into more. Either way, education and protection are the key.

"They hold the key to my future, but I try and play a different chord." (Extract from the poem)

Being myself has always been difficult. The idea that I should be unapologetically me when simultaneously apologising for a few others who "look like" me. How can I be truly, proudly and unapologetically black, while trying to not be stereotypically black? Loud, rude, aggressive. Those are isolated incidents not assimilated traits.

I wrote this poem at the beginning of March. A lot went down during the months following; marches, protests and petitions. I don't know what I had expected to change however I do know that it has to start somewhere. When I look back at all the poetry I have written in the past regarding poetry, there is no difference between the issues then and now.

Harassment is serious. Sadly, there are too many individuals who have gone through it. This the poem is just one example of harassment that I know, many people can relate to. Harassment happens too often, yet too often no one speaks up. Therefore, I'm speaking.

Like many others, my career choices have always been based on which subjects I was best at in school. It was not until halfway through year 12 of my education that I had a fairly stable idea of what I wanted to do. However, the thought of the university had also made me anxious. The fees, the hours, the dedication. The fear of making the wrong choice and only realising when it's too late. I had thought that if I pretended to love something long enough, that after I eventually would.

I often write about the things that I see. From fruit punch to lack of faith. From knife crime to laughter. Today's poem happened to be about fruit punch.

Growing up in the area that I did, there was always a temptation to carry knives. Even from primary school, I had friends who would hold them simply for decoration. As I grew older, I began to witness the harm they could do firsthand. However, they also possess positive qualities. The real weapon is not the knives, but its wielder.

"Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I know it's for a reason."

"I'm spinning around in a room with no door."

"Discrimination, discrimination, I'm a victim of your intimidations."