Young Europe

           

 

Dreamy Morning

By Emer McGrath.

Monday morning always the same. Everybody's dopey and the teacher gives out. All I hear is the drone of voices in class. My eyes start closing, voices gradually fade. Then I found myself lost in thought.


The drone increases, but I suddenly notice that it's the drone of an aircraft, an aircraft in trouble. I hear the noise of my engine spluttering and whining. Then a voice shouting, telling me that I'm losing altitude and heading towards the ground below, rapidly.

The next few minutes went like a blur. Then suddenly I see the other pilot hanging limply over the controls. It was my first journey as flight engineer. When I finally realised that the other pilot was dead, panic rose up through me and my limbs froze with fear. Everything seemed muddled. I knew I had memorised everything but now I was confused by all the different controls and buttons. There were gauges, lights and buzzers dancing before my eyes.


I found the manual and calmed myself down before I began to gain control of the craft. I scanned through the manual. Then slowly began to descend. When I spotted rising hills and fields, I knew I was safe. As I touched the runway I heard the screeching thrust of my brakes and felt the plane grinding to a halt.


I emerged from the plane to be greeted by flashing lights from emergency services and the applause of the rescue crew gave me a hero's welcome.


With a sudden jolt I heard the teacher's booming voice asking what I was doing on the floor? I looked up, not to my aeroplane, but to my desk.

 

 

Death of a Natural:

In Memory of

******

No screaming fans

No caring friends

Still the demons possess me.

Cocaine or speed,

Or hash or dope

I cannot seem to break free.

My troubled past, present and future

The dreams they seem so real,

Only while in Ecstasy

Can my mind begin to deal;

With life's great pressures

And late night jams, I am living a lie

Inner turmoil beneath outside calms,

Emotions run riot, hung on morphine;

Under its spell and over my head.

A tortured soul, satanic temptations,

My addictions had me going where I was led.

From Poster pin-up to "Generation X",

My celeb status has ground me bare.

Where life is leadin' me I don't have the will to fight,

Or heart to even stop and care,

I have risen from the ashes

Like a Phoenix amid fiery flame.

Only to be devoured by Hollywood

Hunted down by fame.

All I needed was a sweet distraction

And, blindly took some Persian Brown,

From whence I took the speed ball dose,

On an all-time high, I descended, drowned.

I have lived my last

My death has come,

On a cold sidewalk, on Hallowe'en,

Outside the Viper Room, under a full moon.

By: Yvonne Keaveney.

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