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Page 87 text:
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TRAGIC RECURRENCE How often must history repeat itself before the world awakens from its apathetic sleep? This I ask, after the tragic occurrence of the death of eleven Israelis in Munich. Obviously, there can never be peace in the world, because humans are instinctively a savage race. But can the world not see what is happening? We have studied the Spanish Inquisition and the pogroms of Czarist Russia. Many of us recall first hand the annihilation of six million people in eastern Europe during the Second World War. Cannot these rude awakenings of terror shock the world into realizing the plight of the Jewish people? Unfortunately, as history proves, it will not. The chosen peopIe must fend for themselves. Further than that, they must fight to survive. If the world will not respond with active help, it should not condemn Jewish retaliation. An eye for an eye is the motto. This one race of people has been chosen to be afflicted with every hard- ship this world has to offer. Or can we call murder and massacre a hardship? ln any case, I find it dif- ficult to comprehend our country's willingness to aid tribes in Africa and little yellow men in south- east Asia, before aiding a people who have been ravaged with war and oppression for two thousand years. Over two thirds of European Jewry was exterminated under the Nazi's iron hand, like insects. Are we willing to settle back into our comfortable lifestyle after the tragedy at Munich? Will history repeat itself? David Lester Honourable Mention Senior Essay The sons of the same seed cry With salt tears and soft sighs. imprisoned in the same forms, Bound in bones, wrapped in flesh, The common blood of man springs From the same ancestral lovers' limbs. Brewed in the blood of a warm womb, We slept in the peace of our innocent room Our music the maternal heart. Our love was born in the peaceful dark, Our refuge from the sons of earth. Fear was found in the flux of birth. With urgent screams for milky streams, The infant throated choir quiveredg Craving for the fountain breast, The arms that hold, the hand's caress, Unfocused forms in dizzied light. Love was learned in appetite. Drew Mulligan 2nd Prize Senior Poetry
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Page 88 text:
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TIME'S RERUN Although it was almost three years ago, I have the memory of a woman. It see it as a silent movie rerun. Two children playing games: With no concept of act and consequence. Two children fondling emotions That are better left to adults. Two children that once were in colour, But now I see in black and white. Fate waves its mighty hand, Throwing us together again A second time, a second chance. This second chance makes me think Of the time I was given a third. I try not to accuse you of his faults. I cannot help but wonder, In another three years hence, Will I sit and watch the rerun of Two children, playing blindly, Losing their second chance? Anna Nlalynyci 79523 Here I sit In an institute for education To become successful In a way of life that I despise, Wracking my brains to find the answers knowing nothing of truth or life When l'm through And my head is filled with meaningless information But unable to face myself Because I will have submitted They want to make Something of me, so they moulded Shaped and tore apart All that once was me. Taking me by the hand, they led me to a land Where I wonder who I am I will be nothing Just an empty shell, labelled 2165 23 Unable to recall what it was like When I was young and free If I ever knew at all Who controls my destiny Have I a choice of roads to follow? Nlust I follow the same route as all the rest? Who are on their way to the land of tomorrow Can't I Walk slowly, picking flowers on the way? Talking to the sun, and touching the skyim' And living - really living Today? Nlust I Hurry away from love and my dreams, the sand and the sea? Why can't I take my treasures with me? Why can't I keep my name? Why can't I be what I want to be? Why - Why am I bound in chains? Lesley Oliver lst Prize, Junior Poetry
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