School, oh it's boring,
in class I always was snoring,
the teach, busy teaching, I'm ignoring,
the clock, please end today, I'm imploring,
I have a date later, with this girl, who I'm adoring.

Young, bright eyed and dumb,
talk, laugh and play till we're numb.
Summer, climb trees, pick and eat plums,
do silly things, sometimes get caught and run,
days of our youth, days of paper airplanes and gum.

A fork and empty plate,
relics of last night's dinner.
Paint, brushes and thinner,
art never finished at this rate.

A jumbled deck of cards,
a game we had, it was amusing.
A single, lonely sheet of music,
how I wish I was a bard.

The only comb I own,
more a decoration than for combing hair.
Two coins, a single pair,
lucre, life's stepping stone.

A ring, not on my finger,
memories in scratches etched
Things to get off of my chest,
a single photograph of her.
That is all the junk on my desk.

Sunlight bakes the lonely sand,
rays like fingers of death's hand.
Dead, dry, arid, empty land,
No living things around, not even plants.

Every critter here is deadly,
as they skitter, hungry, daily,
food for once, today, maybe,
another day with stomach empty.

Rain seldom falls here,
maybe once each year,
scream and none will hear,
except the sand, front, sides and rear.

Pain, strife, struggle, fear,
hold onto life, for it is dear.
Desert, that's it's given name,
a lonely field of unmarked graves.

Painful daylight heat and freezing nights,
every waking moment is an effort.
And now, listen to me, as I write.
My love, life without you is a desert.