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Magazine Extract #2

Just another drop-out

Iím sat on the
Dusty floor of a railway station
Enveloped in the warm neon darkness,
Comforted by the loneliness around me,
Breathing the air
Trained dead.

I was going to write a poem
About a demonstration
Against a war
But whatís the point?
People will read with sympathetic eyes
But the words I write
Disappear with the echoes of their footsteps.

I wrap my thoughts more tightly around me.
The aches of my body
Like my jeans.

I walk through the pathways of my mind
Rediscovering memories
Hidden in the nightfall
Hung in the great mothball of time.
I thought the dusty doors
Led to more mysteries
But I found out in timeís time.
I am replenished with the tide
Of private poems no sea can ever wash away
And which are inscribed on the warm tablet of my mind
For ever.

Gina Parkinson (Fifth year),
Typed up by Mandy Thackray (nee Rance) - thankyou!

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