1982 BGGS Magazine

HELP I reach out my hand And grasp at something that doesn't exist I hold tight to the one that rescues me And takes me from the flock that herds me on It deftly frees me from the chains that hold me tight It lifts me towards the stars It teaches me to sing, to dance to fly, to run, to imagine, to remember, to think, to love - to live Until living clutches around me

And once more I reach out And I can only hope for a guiding star or a helping hand An escape route in a form in any form. Jane Robertson. 12 E.

93