It stands
beneath the limbs and
merriments
the canter call of
time
its bricks reach up towards
multi memoried
skies
as intrepid feet
lean forward
push onward
skuttle backwards
laugh and mingle tears
within its soul;
It stands.
It stands
amongts the triumph
and struggle
its cold stone veins
leading the just and
the mightly defeated
in ordered hours
and lingered speeches
in the pursuit of
knowledge
the pursuit of gain;
it stands.
It stands
in silence
a witness to her shuffle
his hesitation
her fixation
his motivation
her courage
his redemtion
to Monday callings
and thursday maulings
to Tuesdays lastness
and Friday’s madness
it stands.
It stands
as its voice goes unnoticed
its brick notes and
roof top melodies
linger a testiment
unspoken to the fortitude
of perserverance
and the suppliment of
faith
For in these halls
little souls stand
and she makes sure
she never falters
never gives sway
for all the comings
and goings of a day
the black the blue
colbalt and shrew
madness and
due of tears
she stands.
For someday
when hands stop lingering
over plastered walls
and paint stops mending
the cracks and fall
ing spaces
when voices stop
and doors weld shut
she will be remembered
for the words
emblazoned on her skin
“Knowleldge is found
with open hearts, clasped hands,
and couragous spirits”
and
She stands.
saying it anyway 