I dream of orchestras, symphonies of violins and harps. The Promise |
Kyle DaShawn Brooks Age 16 |
In loving memory of my sister, Stephanie Denise |
I dream of orchestras, symphonies of violins and harps,
Lost in a chorus of down pour, Rain giving off a sound of beauty untouched by the hands of man, Molded by the soul of time. I glance off to the horizon, a beach with white sand. Each grain like that of a candle, Surrounded by every color of the sunset. The echo of seashells in an octave most high, Like when man speaks the name you were given at birth. Soft enough to make the angels cry and the wind dance hand in hand. Clouds begin to carry my weight showing me true Mother Nature. So many snowflakes, yet none the same. Flowers bloom to the sound of your voice. Seasons transform as you awaken, fragrance untouched like the depth of the sea. That extra room in the house turns into a playground, With no sand, no grass, only gravel. The slide no longer present, a swing set with broken chains. Am I imaging things? Am I crazy? Mirages have become daily, like a prescription drug for reality. So as I kiss the sky and paint the world with my words, My promise is this; there will forever be laughter in my cries. To know that you are here, even though you are gone.. To never abandon, never forget, and to know that you will never let me lose myself, because I never lost you. |
I dream of orchestras, symphonies of violins and harps,
The Promise By Kyle DaShawn Brooks, Age 16, December 14, 2003 In loving memory of my sister, Stephanie Denise, born still November 1, 1986 |