Sacred Streets of September

Tomorrow marks the last chapter of the Hills,
The beginning of the end,
Some wounds I’ve gotten here will never mend,
Often jostled by people’s wills,

When I entered high school that day so long ago,
I was a mere child,
But something on these pavements got me riled,
Filling me with a fire that burns until I sow,

I found pain here,
I found faith,
I finally found where I felt safe,
Away from the shattered silver tear,

I look back on these years of four,
No longer the boy rolling over the threshold,
Cruelly taught by hearts and souls so cold,
Feeling like the Beat Knights of Lore,

Constantly being trampled,
But never giving up,
Reaching for the brimming gold cup,
Writing verses from my heart I gambled,

Enthralled by Abba’s intricate weave,
Trying to let him rule,
Because that’s what it truly means to be cool,
So that they see Him through me before I leave,

Yet how will they when many won’t even listen?
How will they when they turn their backs?
And I’m reminded of all the things my life lacks,
A place to call my temple has not yet been risen,

It seems that everyone knows my name,
They all are “close”,
Yet all I am to them is a ghost,
And when I try and reach out all I feel is shame,

They lock their gates,
All I see is cold hard stone,
That Rocks me to the bone,
For I must combat their deep hates,

With Love as my shield,
I’ll show them a better way,
He’ll tell me of the words to say,
Then I shall depart from this war-torn field,

I’ll be able to leave it behind,
Breaking all the chains,
Eroding the old pains,
Sailing away to find my own kind....