| POETRY |
| Our first submission is from Missouri. She is a high school student and we're glad to publish her work on our pages. |
| 07/11/99 |
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| Columbine So many young ones died that day, Hiding in their hearts Their need to play, Now fills the morgue What once filled the school, Killed by outcast children, Hopless, Hateful, and Cruel. -Sarah Koeninger |
| While I lived in Mexico I ran into many interesting people. One of the more memorable experiences I had was a small 5 year old girl whose father worked in a plant in Ramos Arizpe near Saltillo. The little girl always had a little brown bag around her neck. I was truly inspired by this wonderful little person. |
| 07/11/99 |
| In the little brown bag Around her neck A small girl holds her treasures A broken broach Shaped like a fish A marble and a di And two little keys Who lost their locks Who knows where they may lie And so she plays Each magic day with all her little friends And sings her song Of happiness And in her five year old way Those days seem to never end. -Jacob A. McDonald |
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| 15/11/99 |
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| Elizabeth Chandler. Keep up the good work! |
| You're right. There is no one here. Where have they gone? Did I offend them so quickly? No. They are there. But why is there no motion? Are they asleep? No. There is blood. Has there been a murder? Why am I alive then? Why has he chosen to leave me? I was the one who wanted to go. I was the one to call him. Death didn't follow directions. -Elizabeth Chandler |
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