Lorne Park Secondary School - Key Yearbook (Mississauga, Canada Ontario)

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Wandering through the city We passed by here once together, Oh, the massive lonely city How it yearns for our return The multitude of unknown faces Searching for their true identity I am one of those unknown Searching alone, for a new identity look how time has grown. Jude Chalut A PRAYER FOR LOVE A PRAYER FOR PEACE A prayer for light where there is darkness, A prayer for truth where there are lies, A prayer for love where there is hate, A prayer for life where there is death, A prayer for hope where there is despair, A prayer for knowledge where there is ignorance A prayer for warmth where there is coldness, A prayer for laughter where there is crying, A prayer for man By Lesley Oliver 2E

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Edgar Wells slid slowly around his store, whistling softly as he scrawled a list of depleted stock on a discarded piece of cardboard. The old black shoes scuffed around a familiar circuit a couple of times before Edgar sat behind the cash register to light his pipe. He had never been known to smoke a pipe, only to light it and then let it die in his waving hand as he spoke. His pants were as ill-fitting as his hoary brown jacket, which hung like a sack on his shapeless shoulders. The frayed vest boasted an ancient watch chain. The skin of his neck hung looselv over his collar. He had a curious bald spot on his right temple that confused strangers for about five min- utes, which was the longest he went without slowly scratching it. He spoke repeatedly about moving out of his rambling house, that it was too much for him, but it was the only remaining memorv of his wife, and he clung to it desperately. Edgar collected catalogues, and would chortle with delight each time a bemused customer would clean out his basement and add to Edgar's collection. He would speak with childlike awe about the 1932 Sears he had stumbled across. Edgar was a killer. He would skulk around the edge of town late each night with his shotgun held like a child in his arms. He would kill any animal he saw. For several months the people of the village had been horrified by the finding of mutilated cats and dogs that littered the fields. It had been several months ago that Edgar Well's sickly wife had been mauled to death by a hulking pair of Dobermans from a farm down the concession. lt was not a great surprise for the townspeople to hear one day that Edgar had been found lying dead in a field with his shotgun, surrounded by wolves. Grant Heckman Honourable Mention Sr. Essay. i 5 g Q.. 5 0 . Y ' X 1 ' - 2 . 1 f Z 2 2 gl I, . f . , 6 - . . f f , ,ff T T . l v V Ag , A A .A E: A . A lzl In , , M f 2 - - ' ff Vz... . ....r Vil- - - - V' . .f'i.., .... n - -1 T- ff ff ,. A zyg ,, w ill ,,., . yyy g fgzgy ggggg . ,,, ,,,.. .,., , W ga-.N H r.,

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ODE TO THE SOCIAL SET I came upon a youthful boy filled with hopes and dreams I shattered every one of them and laughed to see his tears I walked upon a wood of life and burned it to the ground I jeered at every ugliness looming all around. I shot a race of forty-five and didn't feel the pain. I killed the feathers in the sky stopping all the rain. I murdered every living thing and took the head priority. You see my name is too well-knowng they call me society