At School

Stationhill.com

Poems

At School
Poetry by R D

Slowly through the cement halls,
Reluctantly, we carry ourselves.
Thinking things are so unjust,
Anxiously awaiting the bells.

Looking on to something else,
Sometimes half not and half there.
Thinking we are better than this,
Thinking we're so good, we shouldn't care.

Why the code? is our quandary,
We do know, yet still we ask.
Thinking we would do things better,
Yet never willing for the task.

Still reluctantly, we go on,
Waiting for another year.
Thinking it will turn better,
Yet, at the end, still a tear.

R D, age 14, contact: SigurRos33@aol.com
Copyright 2002 R D
Reviews and comments requested, please.
Posted 01/22/2003

Tropical Life
Poetry by R D

Always desired
only admired

R D age 14, contact: SigurRos33@aol.com
Copyright 2000 R D.
Reviews and comments requested, please
Posted 01/22/2003

Innertube Slingshots and Rubber Band Guns

By Curt Ledbetter

Aw, I remember Snake Creek

when I was just a lad.

Wanderin' cross the hillsides

on the land my daddy had.

Momma used to tell us,

"Don't stray too far from home.

There's snakes in that old creek.

No place for you to roam."

Oh, they were only grown-ups.

They didn't understand

about oil paper sailboats

or mud covered hands.

We didn't know what they did

from dawn to setting sun.

We were busy making slingshots

and rubber band guns.

Now that I'm all grown up

and work the whole day long,

I miss that old creek bank

and hand made leather thongs.

So now in my mind's eye

I re-create the fun

of inner tube slingshots

and rubber band guns.

curtaled@mchsi.com
Posted 01/22/2003