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Chidhood for what it's worth
12/24/2006 1:40 pmLast Read: |
FAIR TRADE Sometimes when I hold this. Faded old Globe. That I used at school.To see where the oceans were And the five continents. The lines of latitude and longitude. The north pole and the south pole. Sometimes when I hold this Tattered and wreaked old cardboard pumpkin. I think here in my hands rest the fair fields of my childhood. Where still lie or wander old games tops and pets. A house where I was little, A place where I was as old as I was tall. And afraid to swear cause Grandma might hear and send a bear to eat me up. Where I loved the pink clenches, the red ,white and pink fists of roses; Where I watched the rain that the skye's thew down, In puddles and rut fulls of irregular mirrors of soft brown glass upon the ground. Sometimes I think this old school globe is a parcel of my past, a basketful of half forgotten things. And now here I stand with it some when in the summertime. All alone in an empty and forgotten school house , Where about me hang old maps an abacus,pictures, blackboards and stand empty desks. If I raise my hand no teacher will demand what I want, But if someone in authority were here I'd say give me this old word back whose shattered husk I clasp. And I'll give you in fair exchange the real true bitter sad one. That's filled . Not with a child's remembered and pleasant skies . But rather with blood puss horror,death,mothers ,fathers and Lies |
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12/26/2006 5:18 am |
Another poem to make a person think. I really like it Babes! Hugs, Skye ![]() ![]() Blessed Be
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12/26/2006 8:48 am |
You took me back to my elementary school days... an age of innonce filled with nightmares of the Viet Nam war looming in the back ground.... the '60s~ ~Jeff ~spunky
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12/26/2006 1:56 pm |
Thankyou Jeff I served in that insanity from 68 to 71 nothing good to say about it. Swallow
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12/24/2006 1:40 pm



