They call your name and everyone cheers
For the amazing two years for which you’ve stayed here
It seems like minutes ago when I first saw your smile
But looking back at it now, it’s been quite a while
The girl in front of me has her camera out
Snapping hundreds of moments to remember about
Me, I capture with my eyes, it’s sweeter that way
Memorizing every piece of you for when you’re away
I had to hold myself back from calling after you
Or at least leaving a note and giving a clue
Would it make you come back if I let you know?
Or would you refuse to think twice and immediately go?
I know what you’d say, that I’d get over you
That sooner or later, I’ll find someone new
But even if I do, and the chances are few
I’d still fondly and lovingly think about you
I’ve got them in my arms: your deep voice, your stance
Your dark hair, your eyes – almost grey at first glance
And now you walk off the stage, so flawless and fine
That’s the last memory of you I’ll have on my mind
we were late
the gathering had already begun
a solemn voice recited
among whitened walls
behind him were instruments
quiet like us
unfamiliar with house
he finished and we applauded
along with the faces
captured on canvas
and hung with nails
on the walls
The next voice was a woman
she spoke in verse
inside and beyond
reflected in the windows
and we were invited
to eat and drink upstairs
and faces surrounding us
voices and music
a strange lady
mostly to herself
telling more stories
for us to contemplate
until next time
It's the same dull presentation every year.
Her friends all aware.
She stands out today,
but then again,
She is of the few who remembered,
the occasion that is.
Simple black dress.
Poppy ablaze on her heart.
She is quiet today.
The Marlboro-huffing voice,
crackles over the P.A.,
telling students to report to the cafetorium.
She rises out of her seat,
smoothes her dress,
and straightens her poppy.
She is first to hand in the annual
"I Will Remember..."
slip of paper.
Along with her older brother's name.
Not looking back as she leaves.
Everyone files into their seats,
their bland, identical, mauve-coloured seats;
fidgeting before they even sit.
The "populars" in front of her,
texting and tweeting life away.
She silently studies the band, bitter as can be.
All there for extra cred, or to get out of class.
"Delinquents reading sheet music"
Printed on white, crisp new paper,
only to be forgotten about,
or thrown out tomorrow.
The anthem is played,
she loses control.
Tears tearing a path down her face.
Nothing but a scratchy wool sleeve to help;
all the while,
not without a stiff upper lip.
And as soon as it started,
the entire thing is over,
and everyone files out of their seats.
While she and a friend quietly duck into a bathroom,
seeking refuge from the common calm.
Then quickly collects herself and walks back alone.
She enters class,
late with bloodshot eyes; daring anyone to speak.
Smeared makeup like warpaint.
Catching the eyes of her classmates,
as well as those of her teacher,
who now understands.
Though it's a silent knowing,
because nobody enjoys talking about,
the day of the assembly.
You’re all the same
Assembly line humans
Intentions hidden on
Perfectly designed frames
Street light eyes
To guide me home
Are lit by the fire
Stolen from my soul
All holding smiles
Glinting until they blind
You’re all the same
And you cannot be trusted
21st Century contraption of a mind , snatched from birth , taught how to "Walk the Line , " Hammered into conformity , Play Doh brains pressed in a mold , dressed , plopped on a conveyor , not one piece out of place ..
Our State cores a whole , pours a mandatory twelve years of robot ideology between our ears , who we should emulate , who we should fear
.. Fed factory Farm swill , sequester our imaginations , zero tolerance , shot full of Ritalin ...
Find meaning in what you do
rather than what you have.
Value your experiences
because they shape who you are.
Practice patience in all things;
learn, be quiet, and listen.
Appreciate the small joys in life
because they all come to an end.
Seek to make a difference
and don’t expect recognition.
All of us will die
and all we can leave is our impact.
Everything is temporary
Somewhere in the fading echoes
as the daylight slows
my eyes will close
upon this scene
as if I'd never been at all.
On tombstones where names flake away
In year books from a yesterday
perhaps an image will remain
to stain your memory.
What price is it that we must pay?
What fee is due?
When you or I take that last look at the Summer sky
and fly off to one more blind fate
the final unknown unkind blind date
Who will wait to etch our passing in the book of time?
Who will catch the echoes that we leave behind?
And should I care?
I was never born,never lived,didn't die
I was not there
it was not me you saw
It was not me
It couldn't be.
How would I give up that which is given freely?
that which I should love so dearly
and so very nearly,
I begin to see
how it could be me
I could be there
could live and die with no one to care and at the fade out
would I still shout
It was not me?
These questions sent to try me
The fire that was me if it ever was me
is now the embers in the grate.
The cold hand of that unkind blind date
is reaching out to me.
It cannot see me shake
nor can it feel as my heart breaks and daylight flakes away
into the coldness of the final night.
It might have been me that you saw soaring free
or in the echoes of light smashing into the ground.
I'll let you know
but then one day,like me you'll have to go.
Just so you know
if you're looking
I'll be in the garden smelling of roses.
'Look everybody, look at his eye!'
I look, at his face,
his contrived, forlorn expression.
Yet the class sees only the bruising.
'We don't hurt each other like this,
do we?' She looks at me.
Fire clambers up my neck,
pricks my chin and
in the balls of my cheeks,
where it blazes.
The mouth-shaped bruise
on my arm tingles,
teeth marks still bloody.
I roll down my sleeve,
to be considered a grass.
Later, she wants to talk,
but I can't for crying.
And I hate when she tells me,
'Just don't do it again.'
I saw a boy standing out of line
He was grimacing to see the sultry shine;
I saw a kid and his colourful tie
Between his teeth like a long pie;
I saw a girl, very fatty, slowly combing
And her cliff, stuck out of pocket, moving;
I saw a senior boy and his pants only tight jeans
He had come here for catwalk it surely means;
I saw a another girl pricking her classmate
With her long nails polished at high rate;
I saw two boys playing pushing game
For them saying prayer was a shame;
This was a momentous assembly I attended
And hope to visit here again but it will be mended!