Swiftly, gently, calling the wind to its power
It flies with a great risk, into the song of danger
Claps of thunder, lights of lightning, and a great stream of color
Your eyes watch the sky for a few minutes
A tear streams down your eye
Thats life, your head tells you
But to yourself, you think theres something more you can do
You take a newspaper out of a rack, go to shelter, and read carefully
It takes you a while, but soon you realize it
The song of World War III was never meant to be
Your life was never meant to be shortened as it is right now
You call each leader, and try to speak to them
Each leader is out, trying to fight a war that will never be over
Running, you head to a helicopter
Pain strikes
You grab your arm to find out that its been shot
Without turning your head, you start the engine to the helicopter
Pain strikes yet again
This time, to the helicopter, not to you
The fuel tank has been shot and is now leaking
There isnt much time
The helicopter flies into the middle
Your voice, hooked up to a loud speaker, is projected in a 50 mile radius
Everyone hears you
You look down at the fuel gage
Empty
The helicopter starts to fall
A child sees the stream of color arise from where you died
A tear drops down their cheek
The war has been stopped
And your name, was called into the darkness
**This poem received 3rd place in the Dallas PTA chapter of the Reflections program in 1997**
Photography
As a photographer, I’ve been using cameras since I was around 12, originally using models like the Nikon FE2, Nikon F801, and Nikkormat cameras to shoot subjects such as exotic cars and cats. Later on, I started just taking pictures of ever