Claimer: Okay, it's late, so lets just say this is all mine, no plagiarizing, yadda yadda…

September 2, 2003

3:25 p.m.


Hey, look at this outside…

What? Where?

The sky is falling, you know

He told me while holding

His breath, waiting for a miracle.

The haze is rolling in and I


I watched the clouds and our fingers up

Against the glass beneath,

Cold despite the heat of feeling and harvest suns.

The breeze, it echoes

Stars and ancient things

Waiting to be discovered

With too little time to find them

He's telling me some silly nonsense

About taking over the world

And filling my room with butterflies and


We decorate the sky with outer space and

Laugh away the clouds of summer end.

A/N: Yes, yes. I know. Very short, but I actually think this is one of my favorite poems. Written while trying to concentrate on stupid feudal systems and the commercial revolution. Requiem for summer and friends that had to be parted for the coming school year.

The beginning conversational sequence was tweaked a little, I admit *sheepish smile*, but it WAS something like that and then he said: "Doesn't the sky look like its gonna fall on us or something?" (Kind of a moment thing. Yes, a bit long and unrhythmical for the poem, so I had to cut it down).

Reviews with Constructive Critique please?