Topic: THESE 3
As i said this was written by my daughter probably as she was leaving for her freshman year of college I just found it yesterday.. she is now a close to being a senior. My god it goes fast!!
THESE THREE
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She was diversified, says the clothes in her closet, hanging up and jumbled with color;
Someone who held on to memories of her past, say’s the blue soccer jersey from when she was seven; folded next to the stack of of baby blankets from her infancy.
She had an eye for color, says the vintage portfolio which held her artwork; an avid painter says the various brushes that lay atop a paint strewn easel.
But not a girl of order says the bed that went unmade almost every morning, piled with pillows in the corner room.
There were two little boys, says the pair of wooden bunk beds that face each other,
weighed down with plastic guns and cowboy hats.
A musical bunch, say’s the drum set in the corner and guitars hanging on the yellow walls downstairs; they had minds with many visions; says the dozens of sketched on pages inside leather bound sketchpads.
Where did these visions come from? Asks the blackened slate pencil as it moves in many speeds to fill the needs of the boys.
They loved their sister; says the the floral couch and blanket as it covered the three up to fall asleep during a movie.
Those three were inseparable; says the seats of the bicycles as they would fly through the back roads where the trees would smile down.
She left them, says her mostly empty room, down the hall on the left.
Naked hangers say she packed for days. Leaving behind all the things that constructed her childhood;
Picture frames on the walls say they watched her grow, once a playful teen, now a college bound young woman.
Things in her room go untouched, says the settling dust atop the floor where a bed once lay; and her brothers?
They sit on the couch, say the crumbs in the cushions, fighting, and arguing,
And an empty space where their happiness once burrowed.
By Bethany Noel Sailer (posted by her father without her knowledge, till I tell her to look here)
– George Lynch 2013 (Dokken, Lynchmob, KXM, Tooth & Nail etc....)
Bethany, you'll possibly be unhappy with your Dad for posting this publicly. I hope not though. Things like this are treasures to us parents. Poetry allows others to see inside your thoughts sometimes, and from a parental point of view, it's an immeasurable gift... to know you treasured your childhood and didn't run out the door screaming, "I'm gone! Adios! You're all finally off my back! whoo hoo!" 
Beautifully written.
