St Genevieve High School - Nanterrian Yearbook (Panorama City, CA)

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A CRY FOR LOVE The child: Bewildered and left alone. Starving for love. Screaming for attention. Neglected and uncared for. No one to teach him how To ride a bike or throw a ball. Left to care for himself. As the child grows, he becomes A bad boy Because a spanking is better than Being ignored. He is labeled a trouble maker. And is called a nuisance. Finally he finds a teacher: Life. Discovering things the hard way And learning from the streets. Now he is no longer a bad boy. He ' s a criminal. But he ' s still screaming For love. -Laura Graff. ' 82 DECEPTION thought my friends would be the wind and sea ut now they lag. and I am far behind. he sun proclaims the time of day to me - ou peaceful depths, you now seem so unkind. ou once called me to this majestic shore nd tempted me with soothing sounds of calm, o I then bade the mountains. Never more, nd made my life beneath a swaying palm. ' ut Beauty cannot satisfy alone. o sun and I go out in my canoe. . . 7 search of food we are together blown. Vithout the wind there ' s nothing we can do. ' he peace I loved I sometimes now despise, hat wretch, that tease, that taunted me with lies. -Louise Villani. ' 82 Kaqucl Diaz ZoHy Kiedcll PISMO BEACH Crashing waves reaching the sand, drenching my feet, cooling the land. Such sweet mist, so crisp and flowing, tingling my face, until it ' s glowing. Seagulls soaring, high above cliffs, over the clouds, flying in drifts. Sun shining brightly, and blinding my eyes. Sands sitting warmly in tune with the skies. Shifting winds gently blowing. Happy friends, living and growing. All is alive. along the white shore while the blue sea flows. . evermore. -Jane Taylor. ' 82 NO MAN ' S LAND Now once there was a distant land Whose beaches were of golden sand. There was no rubbish to be found. For man had not set foot aground. -Debbie Le Vine. ' 82 ttttfttfttttttttt

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£ V events REMEMBERING The little boy at the shore Builds a sand castle. He spends all day moulding the sandi A wave rolls in He begins again. Moulding and pressing. Time and again. Another wave destroys his new beginnings. The little boy moves to Higher ground. My dreams and emotions are like His sand castles. I work hard to complete them. Only to watch waves d estroy my efforts. I must begin again. But next time. I ' ll wait for low tide. -Diana Nickles. ' 82 We walked together, side by side. Sometimes we laughed; sometimes we cried. You gave me life-, you made me whole. Your tenderness enriched my soul. I thought this would forever be. We ' d be together, you and me. But then you said you had to go. The pain I felt, you ' ll never know! So now you ' re gone, and I am here. I ' m so alone. I ' ve so much fear. I think of you. Do you of me?. . . I long for times that used to be. -Kathleen Todd. ' 81 GREENER GRASS My friend was blue and so was I. We talked and shared the reasons why. Now she spoke first while I sat still And listened to her woes, until The time had come for me to speak But suddenly I felt quite meek. For of the woes I had to share I had not one which could compare. Instead, mine had become quite trite; My life appeared a shade more bright. For once. I knew my grass was green - The greenest I had ever seen! -Laurie Monteleone. ' 82 Christine Mcissner 152 .v.: x ixr.::: :

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fy fy fy fy fy fy ■HEIR-RAISING Lady Di who was recently wed. Is with child, so the papers have said Though as mother she ' s new. She ' ll prepare till he ' s due. For new princes are always well-bred. -Holly Copsey. ' 83 Mark Misetich ■ 4f GUILT What could I say when it was done? I thought that I was having fun. The little boy was on the street- He was not standing on his feet. I ran so quickly from my car It seemed a distance very far. The moment that I did arrive I noticed he was not alive. What could I say when it was done? I thought that I was having fun. -John Pankratz. ' S3 Z m K Udell A CHILD ' S FEAR There ' s a monster in my closet there- Get out of bed? I do not dare! For he will get me, it is true. With one big loud and scary, Boo ! Hey. Mom, I ' m scared! That ' s what I said. But, Dear, it ' s only in your head. Now go to sleep and you will see That in the morn he will not be. So then I crept beneath the sheets. I know he heard my loud heartbeats! And if I cannot bear the fear, I ' ll flick the light. He ' ll disappear. And so I wait without a peep . . Until I fall into deep sleep. -Denise De Grood, ' 83 THE POWER OF HEALING An open page And a sweaty palm On a steel pen Ink that ' s flowing like seething blood from an open wound The ink dries and the wound heals but the scar and the writing Louise Villani. ' 8 J ttttttttfttttttfttt 154 •.•.r.«:;;-»gJEg ♦:-.:-