Given Poems – National Poetry Day 2025 – Under 16s

Here is our selection of the entries for Best Poem by Under-16s for the Given Words competition for National Poetry Day. They all had to include the following five words: pair, endure, lightfast, hold, and justice.

You can read the winning poem The Menu by Miranda Yuan and the poems Photos taken the day they said it was over by Sabrina Li, My Purple Life! by Gia Beckett, and Thread of Reality by Lily Richards—which all received a Special Mention—along with the judge's comments here and the poems from the Adult's category here.

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Kia kaha
Be strong and
Endure
Keep hold of justice
Pair mana with whānau
Stay lightfast and keep
Living
Mauri ora.

Saoirse Johnson, aged 14
Taupō

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The painter who forgot to use lightfast paint

Miss Dae Vincy
accused of scamming
an unwary customer
searching for decor
for his grey home.

The evidence, a pair of innocent-looking paintings,
are held in the hands of the Honourable Judge.

'She is innocent,' cried her lawyer, 'blame her not,
for she has a memory of a leaky pot.
It was a fluke, an accident,
a disruption caused by a mistake!'
he called out in dismay.
'Mr. Lawyer, you may sit down,
this is what we call justice.
Now we will hear from the prosecution.
You may present your closing argument.'

'To do justice, this is what we must do;
She must endure two years, alone, abandoned.
For she must have realised that the paint she used
was NOT lightfast. But she never told anyone,
and sold it right away, to an unwary victim, who was led astray.'

'Yes, Ms. Lawyer, thank you for your time
though this case is quite particular…'

Lilly Pan, aged 11
Ōtautahi Christchurch

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The Stars Build Shadows

A pair of paper-flower
candles lightfast in the moonlight.
Trees of kelp
The seal endures melting ice.
Holds onto the light.
Finds her mother under the piers
Wrestling inside a plastic net.
No justice in these broken seas.

Claire Zhao, aged 12
Ōtautahi Christchurch

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I know everything but I know nothing

I know how to endure
cleaning up my dog’s poo.

I know how to make
lightfast underwear.

I know how to rob cats
for their lunch money.

I know how to use
justice against evil.

I know how to eat
washing detergent.

I know how to pair
soap and lego.

I know how to walk
a marathon in 5 minutes.

I don’t know how to
hold an apple.

Charlie St John, aged 9
Ōtautahi Christchurch

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Artistic Justice

The pigments, once vibrant,
now faded whispers on the page
lightfast memories holding on
to the curling paper

Rain leaving dewy drops on the windowsills
slowly rotting, art forgotten
in the empty room

The bristly paintbrush
lies next to the painting
pairing with the dusty theme

left forgotten
in the attic, enduring
through the thick coat
of time, now dusted off
and held to the light,

finally the golden mane glimmers
gallops into the dawn.

Maya Swann, aged 13
Ōtautahi Christchurch

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Colour blank

Once I dreamed I was a dancer,
fleet footed, untouchable;
pirouetted through midnight gardens in the arms of infinity.

The world was lightfast,
I held 1000 colours in my palm;
whispered them like visions to the breeze.

But to wake to a bleached sunrise,
blank paper, bed sheet, cornstarch —
Where are the pulleys to lift the curtain?

Grapple with permanence all I do,
play tug of war, cry in the cacophony,
is this justice?
Yank helplessly at the arms of the airborne clock,
can't pull them back 'round to midnight.

How to ward away nightmare contortions,
existence in monochrome pairs:
2 leafless trees,
2 boneless fish,
2 songless birds.
Washed-out timescape, colour blank.

Twice I dreamed I was a dancer,
lethargic, fragile.
Stumbled through mid-day desertscapes of pure-white sand,
couldn't quite endure the burning tides beneath my feet...
Maybe infinity only lasts so long.

Lucia Sampson, aged 15
Titirangi, Tāmaki Makaurau Auckland

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Cowboy Wars (Sibling Rivalry)

Welcome to the Wild West
Where fights are all too common
This feud is a bitter one
Brewing for what seems like an eternity (actually, a couple of hours)
Bang, BANG!
Here we go again
My brother and I are a pair of outlaws
It’s noon, time for our showdown
I push           He smacks
I punch         He kicks
He does karate, who cares if he’s a black belt
I spoke too soon
He holds me down
'Heeyah!'
Delivering his final blow,
'OWWWWW!' I scream
The pain is too much for me to endure
With my free hand, I scramble for my Nerf gun
It’s out of reach
This is it, I’ve lost the duel
But justice always comes on lightfast feet
'You’re both grounded!'
The sheriff has spoken
'No, mum NOOOOO'
The punishment, two weeks of solitary confinement (no device time)
Just wait ‘til I break out of here
I’ll get my revenge

Isabelle Holmes, aged 10
Ōtautahi Christchurch

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Hate
How sometimes,
Sometimes it
Feels
Like parts of me are
Lightfast. Unfading, undying
Holding to justice, waiting for consequence
Nothing
It endures my self righting self discipline like it is
Nothing
What can I be like this if not
Nothing
It just won’t fade falter it just keeps
Creeping
Back up on me I can’t
Escape
Lightfast. Unfading, undying, unjustifiable
Only a divine pairing can make me
Free
I have been
freed
Held in the flowing rivers of my heart
And in the oceans of the sea
Paired
Encased, embraced, enveloped by
Love

One Two
One to one
One pair

I am
Loved
I can
Love
Sometimes.
But always
Together
I can
Love

Anastasia Wongcharupan, aged 15
Lower Hutt

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The starry horizon

I gazed out to
the endless navy sea venturing
out to the night.

My shirt, lightfast and
bold captured the moon's
eerie glow.

It was like guilt was
holding my heart captive,
like a shadow over my
soul.

A pair of entwined,
thick branches covered
my pale face in the
cold wind.

I had endured this so far
to wind up at a dead end,
stopped in my tracks.

But justice was still out there,
sailing on the starry horizon.

Mia Lock, aged 10
Ōtautahi Christchurch

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I have to endure the annoying pair – Lilly and Lucy.
I will have to hold on for some justice to come between us,
the one other thing that is not really good is that Lilly and Lucy
are lightfast,
not like they won’t fade
their annoyance won’t fade.

Jaanvi Singh, aged 8
Ōtautahi Christchurch

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The Day The Earth Broke Into Two

It made a horrible sound
All over the ground

We drifted from the sun
When the power cut

The light was only one
I had to endure

The pain was pure
A man screamed justice

We were in a crisis
The sun was not as bold

I saw a pole I had to hold
Now the Earth is a split pair

And I really do care
From the southside

The moon held lightfast
Then it boomed a blast

Rye Eoin Stafford, aged 10
Ōtautahi Christchurch

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I LOVE GUMMIES!!!

I can eat gummies lightfast.

I endure the pain of watching my enemies eat gummies
in front of me.

I take justice on those who steal
others’ Gummies.

I hold a gun to the robber’s head
because he tried to steal my gummies.

I pair gummies with tomatoes (it’s really good).

Rylan Bowler, aged 10
Ōtautahi Christchurch

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Dawn’s Heir

Snowflakes dance to the ground,
the lush land endures the bleak white,
a pair of snow-laden trees,
lightfast sentinels stand still,
bowing low,
towards the ground,
burdened with regal reverence.

She sits there,
waiting,
fearing for the time
when justice is held,
when night wanes into day
and melts her into light.

Samuel Hu, aged 14
Ōtautahi Christchurch

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Mountains hold the breath of life
tied to a kea’s back
Tawhirimatea blows a lonely pair of wings – the tide of the sea
Insects cry after man’s no justice to the trees
Ancient rocks lightfast
enduring tears of Ranginui
to his long lost love

Alfred Lash, aged 11
Ōtautahi Christchurch

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She Left

We were a perfect pair
We held hands to withstand our despair
She sought justice for our
            friendship
Walked in sync to endure
            our hardship
We were like lightfast fabric
            a bond that never fades
Tears fell under the shade
She was like a sister to me
            we skipped around carefree
On my own now, she found
            a new friend
I guess its just me now
            until the very end…

Ila Rutherfurd, aged 12
Ōtautahi Christchurch

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What would the world be like

if we ran out of food
and billions starved to death.
If we stopped getting rain
and billions had to endure thirst.
If we stopped being able to grow crops
to eat.
If the cost of living became so high
we couldn’t afford food anymore
or even a pair of new slippers.
If the sun became so blindingly hot
that all the plants withered and died
and even lightfast paint
wouldn’t be able to hold colour
against the sun’s light.
What if our hospital’s became so unequipped
that newborns only had a small chance of surviving
so that only some mothers
would be able to hold their child.
If our world became so chaotic
there was no justice for anyone.

Emma Zhang, aged 12
Ōtautahi Christchurch

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Two makes a team

Two makes a team.
Two swallows dip and curve, ripping insects from the lightfast fabric of the sky.
Two makes a team.
A pair of willow trees stand sentinel over a roaring river as the sky opens up and the world is torn apart by winds and water, ever-enduring.
Two makes a team.
A young couple lie in jade-coloured grass, holding each other with the fierce desperation of two who know they will stay together until their bones are nothing but story.
Two makes a team.
A teenager sleeps in a hospital chair, waiting and wishing for good news, for justice, even in their dreams.
It never comes.
Two makes a team.
But what happens when there is only one left?

Briar Jarman, aged 12
Ōtautahi Christchurch

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To endure the agony of mistakes
Is what justice must do
Must be
It must hold its anger when confronted
To stay and not budge
To choose correctly,
Even when it seems impossible

To plaster the walls with fair rulings
That remain lightfast when exposed
To the most hateful rays of UV.
This is what justice must do
Must be

To be the embodiment of good and evil
Held together as one pair to endure
What is left of people's humanity
After they are found
Guilty, Innocent
Words, heavy and light at the same time
Depending on who holds them
This is what justice must do
Must be

Moon King, aged 13
Glen Eden, Tāmaki Makaurau Auckland

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'A body still mine'

He made me a stranger
inside my own skin.
Called my 'no'
an invitation,
my silence
a win.
But I learned to hold
the pieces he tried to break—
a fractured pair:
me and my soul,
he tried to take.

Justice isn’t loud,
sometimes it’s a quiet claim—
a steady breath,
a whispered name.

This body is still mine
even if I’m broken inside,
even though his hands are etched,
into my mind,
til shame lingers
like a second skin.

He never asked,
only stole,
the innocence
of my lightfast soul.

This body—
now scarred and tainted,
he left me to endure
a promise still broken,
a life I question
and try to forgive.

But he could not
dim me.
Not completely,
that is.

Lilly Van Rooy, aged 15
Ōtautahi Christchurch

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The lonely bird

The lonely bird flits through the forest, the last of its kind,
As it flies around, it sees birds in their pairs,
It twits and twoos, even though in a bind.

Yet it keeps flying, even enduring bears,
As it flits through the forest, sad and alone,
It soars up the kauri; no need for stairs.

It is small and lightfast, and far it has flown,
As such, it is tired, so settles for sleep,
But a storm whips up, and far leaves are blown.

The bird is picked up, with no time for a peep,
And it flips and it turns, the wind has its hold,
And it takes the bird far, and over some sheep!

It is taken over a town, where a house has been sold,
Over a building where justice is done,
Over a mountain, mined for gold.

The wind takes the bird back, its had its fun,
Dumps it back down in its nest,
Then turns and leaves, it thinks it has won.

The lonely bird flits through the forest, not part of a pair,
‘Til it meets a small bird – one of its kind!

Joshua Taylor, aged 14
Tāmaki Makaurau Auckland

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Eternal

It’s easy to name them:
A pair.
One syllable,
quick on the tongue,
But heavy in living.

People say what they see.
How the woman paid
For what should’ve been free,
How the man was calm
Sitting in the shade.

Love is always good.
But they don’t see
The pieces fading away,
The small cuts made just to hold it whole.

To endure
the distances,
The silences,
The moment one gives more
While the other doesn’t notice.

Romance novels promise,
Love is eternal
Is it really?
Is eternal also the moments
That feel like pain

Or maybe love
Is whatever comes after pain?
The kisses,
The birthdays,
the children’s parties?

Maybe one day,
Sharing a cupcake
turns into many little mouths
Waiting to be fed.

So, try to hold on,
For the sake of love.
Because justice…
Justice is a blanket
That wraps around you
After the night you spent
Feeling almost alone.

Love is a short word,
Pair is too.
But it’s everything they carry;
To hold, to endure,
To remain lightfast,
That makes them eternal.
A blanket of justice,
Pulled over both,
Even if one is fading.
That’s what keeps
A pair alive.
That’s what makes them eternal.

Maryam Sarwar, aged 13
Mt Roskill, Tāmaki Makaurau Auckland

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Universal Collapse

At the end of the Universe,
Hidden in the beautifully shattered remains of what was,
the pair of us stand and stare at the total collapse.

With your hand in my hand,
We watch and endure as the world crumbles and falls,
Our hold on each other is steadfast,

'Is this the end?' you ask.
Your grip falters,
but I hold fast.

'No,' I say. 'It is simply a new beginning.'
But we both know that not even I believe my words,
They ring hollow - and do not do the universe justice in this moment of decay.

'Then,' you whisper, 'I hope we rot together.'
I smile, sad. 'I suppose it would be fitting, and I cannot wait to join you in the ground.'
We stand together, our love is lightfast,

but when compared to our societal collapse,
it will not hold
and we will rot together at last.

Carly Armstrong, aged 15
Ōtautahi Christchurch

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The Pain Experience

I endure this pain
and cry out for justice.
I lost to a game,
holding my lightfast ball.
As I suffer from losing,
sitting alone with my hope
strip off my pair of shoes
and start to give up,
tears well up in my eyes.

Jharred Jacinto, aged 13
Ōtautahi Christchurch

❆ ❆ ❆

I pair those who
Have to endure their lightfast life
And those who hold a sense of deeper justice
Ones hand must lift up on another from strife
And one that will drag down of those he trusted

One will see the tunnels ending light
And one will see the distance from where he stands to the end.
One will be gifted of a golden heart and follow what's right
And one disobey to see the world has compassionate trend

Why would one pair such opposites! I must know.
So one can pull them out of the trenches
And one can have someone to follow

Vahin Setty Sivakumar, aged 13
Tāmaki Makaurau Auckland

❆ ❆ ❆

The city’s drainage system works fast

A droplet of water
Falling, falling, falling…
Drip
A pair of wispy clouds hangs above the skyline
The storm still holding on
Falling, falling, falling…
Drip
The city’s drainage system works fast
Gutters and pipes, channels and drains
Carrying away water as if it were never there
No trial, no hearing, no justice
Falling, falling, falling…
Drip
Looking up, one roof
A thousand pipes
All vibrant vermillion
Despite the burning sun, remaining lightfast
Falling, falling, falling…
Drip
The city silent despite the time
Strange
The last of the clouds slips beneath the horizon
No longer there, no longer enduring
The sun bright, lasting, mocking overhead

Hudson Blyde, aged 13
Ōtautahi Christchurch

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The wind

An invisible surge of power
whistling past my ear,
almost knocking off the pair
of lightfast glasses
held tightly to my face.

Searching for justice, sword in hand
ready for a long battle,
ready to endure the mountain climb,
ready for anything.

Maddison Matthews, aged 11
Ōtautahi Christchurch

❆ ❆ ❆

Lying in silence,
my ragged breathing the only sound.
Cold seeps through the earth beneath me,
icy fingers creeping into my bones.
Time ticks—slow, cruel—
minutes dissolve into hours.
My eyes drift shut
for what I know will be the final time.

The voices rise,
begging me to endure,
to claw my way back from the edge.
Each breath is a battle
I can no longer win.

Warm, dark red spreads from my wounds,
its heat fading too fast.
The voices grow faint,
their urgency swallowed by a lightfast dark
that will not release me.

Gone—
the steady pair of lungs that once kept rhythm.
Gone—
the heartbeat I used to hold like a promise.

And in the end,
there is no mercy—
only the quiet justice of the earth,
closing over what remains.

Lilly-Marie Douglass, aged 15
Ōtautahi Christchurch

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Continue reading the winning poems along with the judge's comments here and the poems from the Adult's category here.