She was like the morning sun
But now, her cheer has gone
And her wink is done
I looked into her eyes
I saw the past and wanted to smile
I saw the future but needed to cry
I looked for a reflection of the alley
Where two souls used to rally
She turned away and said don’t try
For my soul is a living belie
Why me and not you
Why you but not me
Why them and not us
Why us but not them
Why even ask why
For my soul is a living belie
Is it god …or them must I blame?
Or me, or you for igniting the flame
Forget not; you deserted the Camp
Forget not; I am not a tramp
Remember …when you left in a clack
And one day, you promised to come back
I believed you then, you were a novice frank
Leave me alone and disappear again
Take a ship; take a train or a plane
Frankly I don’t care …
For I still have your scent in the air
Forget not; we shared a life of despair
We will continue to fight
For what is right and what is fair
Without moving a lip,
I heard her scream
For a soothing nip
From her long dream
Then …she closed her eyes
And a red tear rolled down her cheeks
With the brunt of fallen peaks
Oh, not in years, but she has aged
Like an animal who was caged
The wrinkles in her face
Tell the story of the place
Where life and death are in race
Yet, she is told to brace
And wait for tomorrow is the grace
I regret ...
I never told her many
I never told her any
That she was my first
That I liked her Kaki shirt
That I miss her alley flirt
That when she got married,
I was hurt!
* The story of this poem is detailed in chapter 2, "First Love, Camp Style." Sharing with the readers a teenager experience with love in the camp