The Gates

Feeling quite nostalgic.

One, two, three, four………….
The hammer against the rock,
One, two, three, four………….
Pounding, inside my head,
One, two, three, four………….
I try to hold it,
One, two, three, four………….
It starts again
One, two, three, four………….
I feel myself plummeting into the earth less barren well
One, two, three, four………….
Songs running through my head, each and every time
“Those were the days my friend, we thought they‘d never end, we‘ll sing and dance forever and a day, we‘d live the life we‘d chose we‘d fight and never loose , those were the days, oh yes, thouse were the days.”
One, two, three, four………….
I hear the piano play, melancholic, tuneless, harmonic, sardonic
One, two, three, four………….
The big gates shine again, the last sight, the last view of the clock, underneath the bridge
One, two, three, four………….
I’m walking through the halls, it’s raining, its cold, the smell of wet mud and grass hurts
One, two, three, four………….
I pass the large staff room, I see all the chairs and the four large tables
One, two, three, four………….
I’m in the class room, I see the sun shining, laughter of dead ghosts
One, two, three, four………….
Smiles and sweat, joyous faces, cries of happiness,
One, two, three, four………….
I see the damp blackboard again, I see the white chalk powder scraped on it, the monitor blinking high up in the corner
One, two, three, four………….
I find myself searching through the many, many rows and shelves of books again, a big red one, one I never finished, some I’ve always wanted to read,
One, two, three, four………….
I fall down, right below it and land on a chair where I once sat many times, on that stage, I spoke, I lamented, I watched, yet never did I succeed, another lost dream,
One, two, three, four………….
I see the wrinkles crawl across my face,
One, two, three, four………….
I grow tired, old, yet I believe it to be young, I know, I am young, but identity, is fantasy.
One, two, three, four………….
I’m typing, then I laugh, I yell, I make my point clear, I see myself seated on the high chair, the highest, the Editor,
One, two, three, four………….
I walk right up, shake hands, smile, walk back to my kind,
One, two, three, four………….
I talk to those older than me, I am blessed, I am wished well,
I am scared.
One, two, three, four………….
I refuse, against my own will, against everyone else’s , I am sad,
One, two, three, four………….
I drag my legs across a line in the tar, I see the sun smiling gloriously, next to the tall arch in the sky, shadowing me,
One, two, three, four………….
I pass. It is over, I turn around and see the many times I have walked through those gates, but no one notices.
One, two, three, four………….
I never did matter in the end, I was just another who walked through those gates. Why should I matter?
One, two, three, four………….
But they did matter, to me,
One, two, three, four………….
The Halls, the ground,
One, two, three, four………….
The white, the skirts, the flowers, the rooms, the books,
One, two, three, four………….
The Gates

The End

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