The concept may seem stark and dim
But there was a time when this story begins
A time filled with smiles & laughter of light
When darkness only came under cover of midnight
A time when bricks were laid with children in mind
Chalkboards hung, with the purpose of advancing the mind
Wooden desks, made of fresh timber laiden
A tire swing hung; swinging dress of a maiden
Children tucked in bed; who can't sleep a wink
Waiting for tomorrow, no sleep; only think
Walking dusty country roads; with chalkboard in hand
And shiny black boots; the excitement is so grand.
Now lying in ruins, covered by weeds and dust.
The old school house lays; forgotten. Devoured by rust.
Ceilings are falling; no coats on the rack
No hope of children's laughter ever coming back
Many of those young ones; now in the grave lay
They lived a full life; their day has passed away
But memories that happened in that old school house
First kisses, young loves, even bullies & pouts.
But somewhere in heaven; I'm sure there exists
Another tree of life; for it surely must fit
As those former children walk by taking a glance
They smile at the tire swing; as memories advance.
Remembering days of childhood
and laughter now gone by.
The old schoolhouse still exists
Still brand new; in a phantoms corner eye.
As I walk on the creaking boards; admiring the past
I catch faint sounds of giggles and phantoms of the past.
I look out old windows; where no glass remains.
the tire swing is swinging; The spirit of childhood has laid claim.
Sometimes I wonder, if progress is really all that.
I worry that some special treasure was left in the past.
When times were simpler; and people were real.
When character mattered; And the heart could still feel
Remember when your childhood heart was pure and gentle.
Let's return to those times; the impact could be monumental.
The world could return to a simpler time and space.
When people truly mattered; and ‘real life' simply took place.
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This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem