A STORY TO TELL, A PIECE OF TIME

A STORY TO TELL

A PIECE OF TIME
It’s been a long time, I think about being thirteen,

I just started at Bernardo Yorba JR,high, just a scared boy.
Life seemed to be changing so much from where I came from,
I moved to Yorba in nineteen seventy two, I was lost after my dad died.
Glen knoll was my first stop, then off to seventh grade where I met many friends,
Taken for granted all of these things right in front of me, we were just kids.
I think of those friends today, dreams enter my sleeping body in the dark of night,
I would like you to know that I remember you more than you know, a long time ago.
You walked through a school that I once visited years after we were far from there,
The year was two thousand fourteen, I wandered again in the land of Yorba Linda.
Neighborhoods that we knew were mostly the same, trees taller than once stood,
It was a Saturday morning when I walked with an old friend into a school much older.
We were no longer fourteen just as Bernardo Yorba had so much age to it now,
Wandering this place filled with ghosts of friends from the past, cobwebs now rest.
Lockers were no more, where all kids stood and spoke of childish stories that would end,
Standing in the center surrounded by classrooms where teachers once taught,
I was an older me remembering a boy playing sports in this place, I stood again.
Nineteen seventy five I was thirteen, coming back here it is quiet, a sound from the wind,
Looking around, echoing voices from ghosts of friends, I remember you a long ago friend.
I have been back there to Yorba several times since I was young, a neighborhood I loved,
Although it has changed over the years just like every small town anywhere you go.
The last time I visited I walked around the streets of my neighborhood, a bit older,
The outside area is too crowded, Yorba Linda Boulevard is not the same as those days.
I’m so grateful that I was able to have lived there at a time when it was quiet and peaceful,
Esperanza was a great school with the best friends I ever had, Short lived for myself.
An Injury suffered at school turned to Illness and I was suffering at school along with each day,
I missed out on a lot so I find myself traveling back in stories, I visit back in my mind.
A piece of time is what was given to us all back then. a childhood, life as teens was ours,
For myself, walking past houses of old neighbors, and friends is like seeing empty shells.
A ghost town now with tumbleweeds, the seventies were left behind, that was my time.

Keith Garrett

 

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