In the Process of Cleaning

When I was going through my stuff from the room swamp, I came across my folder from one of my favorite classes at Moody. The class was creative writing, my teacher, Angela Brown. She was one of the best professors I had at MBI. I enjoyed going to her and just talking.

So, I thought I'd post a few of the writings I did so many years ago over the next few days.

Welcome to Sarajevo

The ravages of war
Have taken affect my friend,
Yet jagged scars are not always seen.
Look closer and you will find,
Where rubble and life combine.

It is in the world around us
In bullet riddled buildings,
Which crumble and fall.
Sidewalks pitted and worn,
Roses of red- imprints of a shell explosion-
Are a remembrance of those who died there.

I see it in the people around us,
Their guarded eyes,
Keep hidden deep within,
A lifetime of brutal memories
That continues to sear their souls,
Like a dry field of grass under a hot sun.

Like a city in ruins,
Their lives are no longer the same,
Personal red roses they must bear.
Every rose is a story
Full of the thorns of sorrow and pain,
And winter has settled there.

Yet spring is near,
As hope begins to fill their gray existence,
Like the gardens around them
Both bloom with a new colorful life,
Its fragrance permeates the air,
And roses are everywhere, as life goes on.