Words by: Pandora Jafari, Grade 10 | Photo by: Kimberly Herbstritt, Grade 12

The sweet, firm surface of dear rocking chair.
My life, my moments, my seconds.
Dear dear fragments.
I don't remember my dear.

My hands hurt now, my joints hurt now
I won't remember the pain in moments
I won't remember.

Isolation beyond compare,
the ballroom I used to dance in has grown distorted.
A disheveled carcass in my memories.
Haunting horns and confused strings are my memories.

Nobody remembers my youth,
nobody at all.
Everything I am dissolves.
I'm a product of a world everyone has forgotten.
A world I too am forgetting.

Gradually now.
Who cares how my heart breaks.
Oh so very gradually now,
the way ahead begins to feel lonely.

The sweet, firm surface of dear rocking chair.
My life, my moments, my seconds.
Dear, dear fragments.

Maybe the man waving his fork in the air hears music,