It stands in the clearing,
Surrounded by the soaring pines,
That tower above it like giants.
It stands, derelict, desolate,
Covered with creeping brambles,
Broken and twisted, crawling with ants.
It stands, the surfaced ground around it,
Is bare and cracked. Nettles and weeds,
Are now the only things that play.
Inside it stand, quiet and still,
The corridors and classrooms,
Empty and dark, even in the middle of day.
Inside the classrooms stand,
Empty desks, thick with dust and a blackboard,
On which is scrawled,
COMPUTERS RULE OK.
(C) Elwyn Bull 1997.
