Teach ’Em: Our Children

Up and around the castle walls we go.
Up and around the castle.
The mortar and pestle art forms that are spread around this continent.
Natural Museums.
Stone walls and checkered marble floors.
Beautiful scenery inspired by the treasures of the long departed moats and drawbridges.
Then to a peek of the peeling paint and the saints that roamed these halls.
A quick glimpse of the freedom found in smoking in the bathrooms
Or the science buildings built on top of bomb shelters and history.
Canteens and warmer wooden cafeterias.
Libraries that smelled like the browning pages of the printed paper sandwiched inbetween hard covers.
Libraries that seemed to hide gold in their books.
You would just have to find them hidden among the others.
A time when all you did was what you wanted.
When rules were meant to be broken.
They didn’t have to look out for you then.
They don’t have to look out for you now.

But they do.

And until they stop, the buildings will be torn down for new.
The paint will be fresh, the halls less legendary,
The desks comfortable, and the lockers removed.
The back of the school: Buildings painted beige with rusted water stains dripping from the roofs like waterfalls frozen in motion.
The nights seemed to last for years.
This is where we stand.
A January, February time and I’m losing the vision.
Can you hear it in the melody?

We were once special.
We ruled what we liked.
We were once special.
We had it all.