The Fort

Becky Smith
I remember how you looked
standing upon the pile
of wood.
Wearing patched jeans
and jacket,
your toy gun in hand.
And I remember how you looked
standing on the creek bank
right before we pushed you in.
I can still see us sneaking out,
egging cars as they drove past.
In my heart I can feel the rush
of first love once again.
But most of all, I can still see the look.
It filled your eyes with rage.
You hated me.
Then together,
with destruction in our hearts,
we tore it down.
We destroyed the fort,
with our love,
and our hate.

Published by Becky Smith

I served as the Senior Editor of a local parenting publication for 2 years and am now the Layout Editor for OKIE magazine, a local arts, news and entertainment publication.Writing was always my dream job. I...  View profile

6 Comments

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  • Vonnie Chestnut8/21/2007

    WOW, this was great

  • CSWarner5/22/2007

    Great poem!

  • Stefano Felicori5/21/2007

    Beautiful writing as usual :)

  • Jeanne Marie Kerns5/20/2007

    I wish I could write poems.. grrr. Great work..:-)

  • Cheryl Dennett5/20/2007

    Great poem. Thanks for sharing.

  • Scott Kessman5/20/2007

    Very cool poem, pretty deep

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