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Nostalgia, Insomnia, Intoxication

Nostalgia, Insomnia, Intoxication

A Poem by Kenneth Nicholas Lowe

We started in April, we started in hell.
The heat made us believe in wishing wells.
By May, we settled, managing as we do.
Managers of a corporate zoo.
Ecstatic to head back, was the feeling of June.
To the see what Year 2, had in offering you.

So much to choose, too much to take.
Manhattan was the site of our first drinking date.
Then it went on, each to find some place right
We dreamed a dream of a pub we would rest every night
The subject were scattered, not in common to talk.
Down to lunch or tea shop or for dabba we'd walk.
The pairs emerged with the pride of love.
The singles embraced the bottles and each others shoves.
Groups were many formed at many a different pace.
Feelings emerged of love and of hate.

The best of leaders had left us to our fate.
We planned and we plotted of our future and our times
it lingered unspoken on 120 minds.

The package, the logo, of our future we had our focus.
Grades and class work were left without notice.
Competitions we had taken, to market individual brand.
ET was plenty and often in hand.
Serious we got, serious we pretend.
D- day approached, our spirits were to bend.

Like heroes of might and magic we went forth.
Into the breach once more, he wrote.
From hub to class, from discussion to question.
The pressure built on, for some it was gone.
At last, we rejoiced the tempest had passed.
Rejoice we did, but happiness did not last.

The new year, the new term, the new life and pay we earn.
Had brought us to yearn, to retouch what was believed gone.
5 terms down brought an unnerving chill.
The last of dependence and the last of free will.
We do what we must, in hurry to savor.
The life to pass, the friends forever.
Forgetting class, assignments and presentations.
We now work on creating memories and final celebrations.

Now time had come, now the time to part
The shackles of a glorious past
Whose embrace I wished it last
Till eternity and not too fast
Coz upon this prison nothing can overcast

With this unwanted freedom how to try,
To spit out the leaving word goodbye..

The eyes automatically cry
The mind gets completely dry
Thinking of the unconceivable try
Of saying the last word goodbye…

© 2014 Kenneth Nicholas Lowe


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Added on July 27, 2014
Last Updated on July 28, 2014
Tags: college, goodtimes, classmates, farewell, comrades

Author

Kenneth Nicholas Lowe
Kenneth Nicholas Lowe

Melbourne, Victoria, Australia



About
Born to the Human Race, I live in the land of India for the time being with a major ancestral inclinations to the Anglican and Celtic anthropological denominations. With that being said, My day job.. more..

Writing