The Voice of PCSS: Afghanistan and poetry

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Prince Charles Secondary School students recently wrote poems inspired by The Kite Runner.

Prince Charles Secondary School students recently wrote poems inspired by The Kite Runner.

The Voice of PCSS is a monthly feature in the Creston Valley Advance that includes work by students at Prince Charles Secondary School.


Prince Charles Secondary School English 11 honours students were asked to creatively describe a character from the novel The Kite Runner.

Two chose to compare the complex Afghani character Amir to a tree and the weather, both symbols in the 2003 Hosseini novel.

Amir — pomegranate tree

Tall and secure,

Something dark lurks below

This surface.


Branches that twist toward the sun,

Yearning for acceptance.

Roots that cling to the earth,

Begging for strength.


Young and jealous,

Willing to please,

This new tree was bright and ready.

It looked to the sun as to a god,

And its roots ached when the sun

Burned its hesitant leaves.

When the clouds rolled in

Even the bright sun couldn’t push them away.

Gone were the eager, twisting branches

In its place, an angry resentment,

Cut deep into the wood,

Aching to the roots.


Long gone is its youth.

A great regret lies in this old, gray bark.

Barren, limp with age, and grief.

No fruit off this tree,

It stands alone.

Traveling back in time,

It searches for rich soil

To help it grow,

To please the bright sun.


Revisiting past mistakes,

This tree loosens its roots

Willing to accept the pain.

It searches for a fruit,

Begging for strength.

Yearning for acceptance,

Aching to the roots.


The clouds provided

A constant coverage,

And the tree was

Unable to grow.


No light touched

Its young branches,

No heat warmed

Its fragile leaves.


The tree grew under

A dark gray sky.

And nothing let

The injured roots

Relax and accept the rain

That poured down its body,

And soaked the ground,

And drowned its roots.

Forever reminded of the jealousy

That sacrificed everything to feel the warmth of the sun

Brush against hesitant leaves, and leave a lingering kiss on its twisting branches.



Weather — Amir

The weather is a curious thing,

A constant pattern,









Over and over again,


Yet, the slightest movement,

The slightest change in the atmosphere,

The slightest change of the earth’s tilt,

The slightest change in temperature

Can change everything.


It can send the weather into a downward spiral

An unceasing rainstorm,

A flood of emotions,

A whirlwind of turmoil,

A torrential abandon,


After the chaos,

It is as if the world is right again,

The sun breaks through,

Shedding streams of warmth,

Silently brightening the world,


But still casting shadows.