Saturday, November 1, 2008

0411 (Editted Version)

Closed rooms, empty stalls

No more music through these halls

Corridors owned by the silence

No more footsteps from rowdy students

The white concrete is cold

Classes these rooms no longer hold

The old red brick hushed

No more tales of long-forgotten memories to spill with each touch

No more couples to see walking side by side in the pathwalks,

No more howling and ball-dribbling in the gym,

No more sweet noises to surround my being

I look at the green field and still see people playing

Their voices in my ears ringing

But the images are vague, the sound faint

That’s all that’s left when I came

Sadly, it just wasn’t the same



[this was the version after a workshop in my CW10 class under CJ Javier]

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