Where once we had school
-a tall building, the gathering of books, thoughts-
Now a hollowing out. The stale wind blows through barbed
wire, remnants of horror, intended to remain
To remember
This hollowed out place
A school becomes a building
A building becomes chambers
Chambers become cells -
all paths lead to the Hill of Poisonous Trees,
where many red rings hang; symbols to replace horror
with Remembrance.
A school becomes a building
A memory becomes a memorial;
But the trees grow despite the poisoned hills.
One day I hope they outgrow this place;
and yet I want Strychnine Hill to stay -
If it is the only way to remember,
To memorialize the school that was raized.

Youth was never about the innocence
Or the ignorance of what lay ahead.
It was never the friendships
Sailing the waves of imagination.
Or releshing the times we were astray and led.

It was certainly never the dreams,
We have those our entire life
Eight hours a day or night
Spent in mind forged make believe.
It was never the plans that were hatched,
Thatched and woven but semi detached
From what it all could mean.

That lack of conscience, the guilt
It all does feed the fire.
And that is youth, a proving ground
Among candles and lanterns, bonfires,
Cities raized to the ground.
Perhaps a grand symphony of light
May, with time and care be made,
The image burned on an iris fades.
Drowned out and forgotten by the
Light of a billion flames.

Brightest eyes to me.

Sunshine's ethereal glow.

We run hand in hand. ****** unbound.

These two young hearts beeting in sencro-sonic peace.

To have and hold you, raized high as if to touch the heavens.
I kick and laugh inside.
Emotions coil and spin.

We run on through feilds in my mind.
Honey, silk, deepest velvet.

To lay next to one another and subtly kiss away the past.

To live in a moment.

To shine on and still bleed to one warm flow.

Dare I venture too close to this joy.
Forbidden feeling.

To lay next to you and say the words:  " I love you."