The World Inside


The snow gently falling

On an idyllic little town

No harsh wind or rain,

Just the white powder on the ground.

The world outside – it’s bigger,

Probably better, but who knows.

Though all places have their flaws

This one seems to have very few.

The world suddenly trembles –

could it be an earthquake?

No, simply the giants’ hands outside,

And the flakes fall again as if on a ride.

The burning sky, rain

Of metal and fire and acid.

This ‘perfect’ world is crumbling because

of what humanity has done.

They’re burning, hiding

alone in their houses,

Leaders who damned them now quietly shunned.

But the world within knows nothing.

Ignorance is bliss

Rings true in this hollow place

The giants are dead and the snow is settled,

Into pale mounds on the ground.

The little people know not of the giants’ fate.

Perhaps they just think the snow is late.

A burning pile of rubble, bricks and mortar;

Or a world ignorant to what goes on outside.

If asked to choose what fate one wants,

Perhaps select the orb, where they still

Peacefully reside.

It’s been years now, and

The snow’s still not come.

Perhaps the giants are gone or

Have found something more fun.

It will never snow again, 

precious orb of glass.

So fragile yet it’s still there

when the ‘giants’ breathe their last.

Kaelyn Yeo (Class of 2026) is a writer for her own leisure who hears voices in her head, and sometimes yells at them.