Loara High School - Seaxe Yearbook (Anaheim, CA)

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Nothing At All What if there were no feelings No joy. no pain What if nothing were appealing Nothing exciting, always plain What if there were no Earth No land, no sky What if there were no birth No one to live, no one to die How perfectly imperfect this world is What if there were no sides No friends, no enemies What if no one died No sickness, no disease What if there were no talking No whisper, no screams What if there were no hoping No thoughts, no dreams How perfectly imperfect this world is What if there were no rain No wind, no snow What if there were no change Nothing to see, nothing to show What if there were no life No day. no night What if everything were alike No dark, no light How perfectly imperfect this world is What if there were no time No beginning, no end What if there were no style No fads, no trends What if there were no above No colour, no beauty What if there were no love No you. no me How perfectly imperfect this world is What if there were no wars No soldiers, no rebels What if there were no doors No names, no labels What if there were no growing No new. no old What if there were no knowing Never thinking, always told How perfectly imperfect this world is What if there were no caring No pleasure, only pain What if there were no sharing Nothing to lose, nothing to gain What if there were no vision No seeing, only believing What if there were no religion No heaven, just being How perfectly imperfect this world is What if there were no choices No rights, no wrongs What if there were no voices No words, no songs What if there were no seasons No spring, no fall What if there were no reasons Nothing . nothing at all How IMPERFECTLY perfect this world Todd O ' Connor

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Perfect Color 1 see the colors so vivid, so real. I can almost touch 1 he magenta air. The sapphire ocean. The gentle yellow breeze. All blended together. To make a color Of emotion- When this flies away. Gently carried away from me. In the wind 1 cry. My tears are tor the thought Of losing something So beautiful. After a while I reach into the bottle And blow Another Soap bubble. Andrea Water Robin M. Lulross A Song For This is the land where I am king In the realm of my Heart I learned to sing But oh such lonely songs That mixed the outnumbered rights With the accurate wrongs This is the land where I am king Where being alone solved everything Everything but my biggest fear It haunted and dragged But died in that year This is the land where I am king I shared it with her and gave her my ring And Love conquers all I spoke through my Heart And was over the wall Thi s is the land where I am king She left me alone to escape the hurt it would bring But in my Heart I said. Love Is Free And if I leave her alone She ' ll come back to me This is the land where I was king In my desolate world she left not a thing But there is a slight chance I will know her again And seek for my friends. Love and Romance This is the land where I am king In the realm of my Heart I learned to sing And even though it is very small I still know the Love conquers all : ii

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Don ' t Give Up Pont give up when the hard times come. Many joys have been missed by some Who think in winter The end is here. Not seeing the cold meant Spring is near. No mornings could come without the night. Without darkness we could not know light. A ranbow. so splendrous. can ' t form without rain. A pearl is born through an oyster ' s pain. Through heat and pressure a diamond is made. On a stem of thorns, a rose arrayed. For a plant to sprout up, a seed must be sown. Men died that our country could be known. Every year the winters will return But when we ' re young we all must learn The sun will triumph over the rain Beyond each price awaits the gain. Ruth cayford The Drink It is a bitter brew A taste savored by only a few. And yet despised by all it slew. By drinking heavily of life. In this liquid of murky complexion All that can be seen is a distorted reflection. A shadow, so near, yet so far from perfection. A quivering ghost in the essence of life. It is a mixture of love and hate, Of pleasure and pain, and of destiny and fate. It kills and it rejuvenates. What a paradox life is. Some drink their fill early on, Passing drunkenly into the void beyond. But most continue quietly along As life up is slowly drained away. Yet it is only a state of mind. Taken harsh or taken kind. It all depends on what you find When you taste the strange brew called life. Robert Salley hnsti Thomas