1981 School Magazine

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Morning breaks on the cold horizon, Youth stares at the shattered mirror And asks hinrself where is hope? Just a by-product of society, Lying dormant, waiting for truth, Soltly treading on the fragments. Blood gushing lorth stains the memory Of a desperate struggle for life. The staring tree holds nothing to say, It just fortified the scenery, As the golden orb iades away. Which way have we come? Can you tell us where we are going? And still the shattered pieces remain, The sterile infection grows worse In the smothering grey mist of life. Polly R.

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