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by pwong Author IconMail Icon
Rated: · Poetry · Other · #999431
The four years of my late teens, high school, friendship, growth and evolvement.
Evolve

That grey hard structured square building
Will never wash off my mind,
Not with soap, detergent or bleach
For four long years I was blind.

A prisoner from dawn to dusk,
All motion restrained by bells.
I made ten masks to hide and blend,
Then lost myself in those cells.

But from faraway I could feel,
In the dark a bit of glow
It handed me myself, my soul
I could again breathe and grow.

They came to me from miles and smiles,
Some with others some alone
People had laughed and made me cry
But these spoke in tender tone.

The quiet and shy they said hello
The busy took time to call
They cared supported, dreamt with me,
Till I was no longer a doll.

Shooting stars, pennies in fountains,
All pathetic deities.
Rain called a single daisy sprout,
From an earth of drowning seas.

The singing, parties, sweet and smoke
Stained and branded on my head
That rock, that tree, that old form room
Four years, both alive and dead.
© Copyright 2005 pwong (pwong at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/999431-Evolve