echoes

from a silent wind, blowing through

buildings high, that penetrate the night sky

echoes

of the voices, whispering over the attempted

hush, encapturing those who would rather not rust

echoes

screaming my name, screaming through

my ears, dancing past the lectures, none the less

bringing the tears

echoes

of the motherland, of purity and richeousness

so soon forgotten, yet still attainable for us

echoes

of a time, so simple so plain, yet

no sane person would dare say mundane

echoes

of the crying, brought forth through

the pain of this never ending acid rain

echoes

of the gunshots, that rang out loud, and sent

another sixth grader to rest his head in the clouds