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School (a sonnet) (Ode) by Nicholas Jones
Cold eyes, dark tiring journeys now and then The fields rang out for we who could not know All that was around, but stiil we knew when A thing is real and not made just for show. We learnt so little; but our damaged minds Fought on, of course, we understood our fate: To think was to resist, to think and find That we were helped along by purer hate. They burnt our dreams and told us not to dream. But still we disobeyed to fight our lot We did not know how to their side it seemed Alive, aware, we knew what they did not: Dark scenes in corridors where children died, Cruel actions of a system fuelled by lies.

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xxx68.164.242.1510June 10, 2005 2:12 PM PDT
Sasha69.138.240.1169September 16, 2004 9:55 AM PDT
Anonymous208.25.247.789February 1, 2004 1:21 PM PST
Bachus24.126.113.15410January 15, 2003 11:58 PM PST
Nicholas Monson195.92.67.699December 4, 2002 6:00 AM PST
Mutant_X212.138.47.159September 29, 2002 5:47 AM PDT
nentwined192.168.0.694September 11, 2002 1:01 PM PDT
Christof195.172.133.2266September 6, 2002 7:53 AM PDT



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