it was brand
new when i first attended
class there.
fresh paint, green tiled floors,
metal lockers,
there was a sparkle about
the building.
the cafeteria, the classrooms
with black boards.
even the teachers appeared new.
but it's gone now.
a gravel pit has arrived
surrounded by barbed fences,
black birds
doing what black birds do.
there is no memory
to this wasteland.
just what you've saved inside.
formed to the way you
like it, a fantasy of youth.
the absence of bricks and
mortar, glass, the throng of
life, means little.
everything it seems,
even buildings, schools,
all of it has a shelf life.
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