i demand that you read my lousy writing.

june 7th 2001

looking at the stall next to me
and seeing the same shoes
and knowing humanity is all the same
and different at the same time
and wondering what this is all about
and knowing velocity is only relative
to the speed at which you are travelling
and I'm no longer intimidated
by the holes in the wall
for the chains that hold
the toilet paper.
walking through these halls
with faces I've never seen before
knowing they feel what I do
even if they won't admit it
who are you people
and what have you done with
the past four years?
who am I
and what did I do
to the past four years?
and I turn to wave my goodbyes
and it comes out as a silent scream
and I'm left to faded messages
and black and white photos
"Sara W-x
Grade 12
Aged 18
Like a fine wine
I never said a word
and I let it all fly by
I hope you have a good summer
and I hope you have a good life."

there was supposed to be more, but i moved out of that bullshit sentimental shit.

FREE AT LAST, MY BROTHERS AND SISTERS! WE ARE FREE AT LAST!