Young Poets Takeover

Poet's Name: Olivia Caldeira

The creature’s lament

By Olivia Caldeira

There is a worm in my ear and

it never stops speaking there is an

infection in my brain

and as I walk past others smell it and

avoid me because they know

I am rotting

The creature spoke and tried to find

human warmth in the cold Alps

but he was rejected by his creator because of

his faults

I do not know my faults but

the doctors around me do and

I am shunned

Though they let me stand by near their group they

do not seek me because

whoever is disconnected is unwanted so

I stand with the panel while

I am by myself

The winner of the Youngest Submitter Prize, 2026 is Fifteen-year-old Olivia Caldeira. She was born in Johannesburg, South Africa. She is still trying to find her true self. Writing is a constant in her life. This is her first time submitting her work anywhere. She hopes to grow her writing skills and is grateful for this opportunity

Poet's Name: Dylan Mapfumo

Congress of Voices

By Dylan Mapfumo

In the shadows I stood outside myself,

whispers turning into screams.

Screams of silent shouts for help

from a stranger I used to be.

Unspoken words, a weight that schemes —

fear of judgement, chains that bound the wings

of a beautiful voice.

“Not good” was not good enough. I took a breath

and said out loud, "I am breaking the chains,

shattering the gray and seeking the light."

I will let help arrive.

The silence ends when I start to thrive.

I remember the childhood scars, whispers in the night.

Trauma's grip, a shadow fueled by silence,

but when the whisper that shattered the chains drew nigh,

from me a beacon of resilience and courage shone.

I choose to hold the pen to my own story.

I refused to hide behind the mask that society,

which perpetuated silence, had put on me.

Yes, they clipped my wings and caged my voice,

but I took a breath and told my story because

I believed my voice was the power that sets me free.

Breaking my silence ignited a thousand voices

and lit the way for others to be heard.

Now I am not alone, I have a congress of voices

to back me up.

The power of speaking out brought me inside.

Dylan Mapfumo, is a 16-year-old boy from Mutare in Zimbabwe. He writes to break silences that once caged his voice. His work explores trauma, resilience, and the power of speaking out. This is his first international submission since winning a small local youth poetry competition.

Poet's Name: Blessed Mkhwanazi

Inevitable Decline

By Blessed Mkhwanazi

At first my fragile heart bled out
At first I thought they'd come around
But now it’s just another day
Their ignorance numbs the bitter pain
I voice my opinion but I’m shut down
Because suddenly I’m too loud
I try to laugh but whispers follow
Why you may ask? It’s an annoying sound
My own best friend can’t understand
She shrinks me from her vision, can’t make a sound
Conspiracy theory:
“She can’t sing”
I can’t dream of anything
I’m oh so selfish but all I do
Is try my utmost best mom… for you
I’m cruel and spiteful but why is that
I stood up for myself
My grades are average
Wished I could say the same for my self-esteem
I think I woke up in the wrong life
Cause where’s my love’s reciprocity
But I don’t really blame anyone
I wouldn’t want me either
It’s not a matter of patience anymore
17 years is long enough
When can I be heard
Without competing with my demons
Without ruining the voice I might need
When someone finally notices me
The girl who stands outside in the rain
The girl who doesn’t fit in, but is here to stay

Blessed Mkhwanazi is a 17 year old South African writer and creative storyteller with a passion for poetry, performance, and expression through art. Currently in Grade 12, she explores themes of identity, emotion, and human experience through writing, music, and movement, with a growing interest in sharing her voice on global literary platforms.

Poet's Name: Uthman Mariam

Outsider

By Uthman Mariam

To live within a code they cannot read,

Is static in a room of signals clear.

A 5G mind where dial-up logic feeds,

And maps of old are all they hold so dear.

I navigate by screens and glowing light,

When NEPA fails and all the streets go blind.

The syntax of the glitch is my own right,

A data-driven life they left behind.

I sit at dinner, ghosting near the edge,

To see the cracks, they hide with coats of paint.

My exit was a programmed, silent pledge,

Before the network signal grew too faint.

I do not need a seat where they are fed;

I’ve got a global horizon instead.

Sixteen-year-old Uthman Mariam is an emerging Nigerian poet exploring the intersection of digital identity and cultural heritage. A student and tech enthusiast, she writes from the perspective of the "Black Sheep," using poetry to bridge the gap between traditional expectations and the global digital future. She currently shares her work via her dedicated digital platform.

Poet's Name: Magauta Nicole Sapho

Outsider/ I arrived early, as always

By Magauta Nicole Sapho

I arrived early, as always,

and saw it waiting — the middle seat. I sat. Braced for fate.

A book snatched from my hands. Confidence cracked like chalk.

Gabotse Wena Ga o tsebe selo — you know nothing. Words made for me. Words that bludgeon.

My pen skids. Palms slick.

Wood-smell sharpens. Judging. How did I forget hydrogen?

Thought scatters. I cannot focus, cannot anchor.

I tell myself: I’m here to fix my life,

but underneath, I’m here gripping a knife. Their laughter carves: you don’t belong.

I stare at my unbonded carbon, shamed. I torch it in my skull, trying to fuse,

but the taunts keep unspooling me.

Still, I continue.

I know I don’t belong here —

I’m here for my sake, not their applause. I steel myself. Try to prove, to exist.

The x stays unsolved. Their eyes slide past me.

They crown the other learner.

I smile — and the smile hollows me. “A lady must be smart,” they say,

judgement glazing their eyes, tar in their tone.

I wish the day would end.

The neglect doesn’t.

By sunrise I’m here again.

The middle seat, still warm with yesterday. My mind frays: would I last?

Footsteps close in. Heart drums.

I dam the rain inside my ribs.

And I ask: do I belong, or am I just a stray outsider, gnawing at a door that won’t open?

inside.

Magauta Nicole Sapho is a student poet from Limpopo, South Africa. She writes to examine belonging, resilience, and the quiet violence of everyday spaces like classrooms. OUTSIDER is her first poetry competition entry. When she isn’t balancing science textbooks, she documents the world in lines and fragments