Christopher Columbus High School - Anchor Yearbook (Bronx, NY)

Page 22 text:

VERSE When from classes they return To don their coats and hats, It does not talce them long to learn That coats are used as mats. ROSANNE GRIMALDI A D WCRSE Here we sit and waste the day, So the teachers get their payg While our minds are off at wars, Vve must listen to these bores. CONSTANCE LOVECCHIO There once was a pupil named Glenn How he loved just to draw with a pen He would slcetch while in class Some pretty young lass Next term he toolc English again. ABE Scuwfxnrz Poor little Regents hook weary and worn, Your first page is tattered, your last page is torn. lnto a chaotic life you were horn, Battered and hullied and treated with scorn. TllCfC OIICC WHS H SCIllOl' Hamed Tom Vvho wanted to go to the prom. Of girls there were plenty, But his poclcets were empty, So he stayed right at home with his mom. MARIANNE KOLEN O, trashhaslcet upon the Hoor, 'Tis you. 'tis you whom I ahhor. You run my stoclcing, Scratch my leg, And though it's shoclcing, I do heg, O yOlI of Tama, wood. 01' straw, My lower limhs to please ignore. FLORENCE WINKLER In Columbus there once was a fellow, There once was a freshman called Percy Who wanted to he mild and mellow, On whom none of the seniors had mercy So Home Arts he studied, And kitchens he muddied, They directed him wrongly They cursed at him strongly He wound up instead malcing Jello. And this is the end of my versy. SONIA STABSKY 18 JUDITH WETSTEIN

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I Icnew a man with insight deep. I otten Ielt his thoughts to seep Into my Iarain, and there to stay, Recalled again another day. He told me once, this brilliant man, To get from lite all that I can. To kill my interfering conscience And drop idealistic nonsense. He told me lite was hard and cruel: To malce my Firm and lifelong rule. The drive for power, fight for wealth, And gain the top hy cunning stealth. He may he right. how can I tell? He made the top, I see that well. People groveled at his word. Everywhere his name was heard. I MAY BE WRONG But something in his lite was wrong, I really did not Icnow him long. His life came to its short lived end. And he met death without a friend. And since that day. I've never heard, From anyone a Icindly word About that man: hut hate instead. So not for me the life he led. I'm still only a callow youth: And who am I to doubt the truth? When he showed me a way ot living. Taking always, never giving. If that's the way to Iive, so he it. For me I simply cannot see it. Tho he be right and I he wrong. My life will he a joyous song. My means shall justify the end. My way towards simple truth shall wend. If this Ioe wrong, I cannot say. I want to Iive my Iife that way. GLADYS SILVERMAN 17

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STAIRCASES The freshies go up Where seniors go down. The freshie's a pup The senior's a clown. EILEEN PRICE I've sweated, I've worried, rm getting gray hair, With Regents and homework and teachers who stare. With Eco and English and Bio a cinch, I've given up sailors for homework in French. And why have I suffered four years in great grief? My diploma in June, explains it in ioriefi How long I have waited for my senior term! The prom plus the class night and no more to learn. But now it has come full of douht and fond hope, Vvirh curfew at midnight the prom's just a joke. The hoys in the service maices five girls to one. With that great arrangement, we're sure to have fun. it's tough with no music, no drinks and no men, I sure wish that I were a freshman again! FOUR YEARS Freshmen with their woeful looks Vvaiic around with hig fat hooks. sophomores seem to he so wise They act like seniors in disguise. Juniors feel so very high One more year and then goodhye. Seniors yell, Can it he true: How the hecic did we get through? MURIEL LEFF ADRIENNE VENEZIA The hail was hushed, the air was tense The crowd sat forward in suspense One without much speculation Could guess that this was graduation Suddenly there was a sound, Like the hooming of a drum, Upon inspection it was found That our 'senior hats had come. JUNE ATLAS o