Hidden Pieces: Strange Teenager

About thirty years ago when I was a freshman (14 years old) or sophomore (15) in high school, I had an assignment to write your epitaph or what you would put on your tombstone.  It had to include four areas.  Well, the assignment was something like that...it was many years ago. 

I do remember that I used song titles and wrote under it a phrase that was meaningful to me.  Music was my way of losing myself and coping with my home life and emotions...like a lot of teenagers.

Back then the teacher that I had was really clueless.  We would send books around the class with certain parts flagged...they were Playboy romance novel and other stuff.  We would pass food around.  We suspected that he wore the same pants EVERYDAY, so someone put a chalk mark on his pant and the teacher didn't even know it.  I obviously was depressed and hope that teachers now would be more aware of their students and hopefully get help. However, I would have never admitted to anything and figure something to say to disprove them.  Heck, I did that well into adulthood.  (I think?)  Well, at the least, know one listened.

The memory was spurred by my therapist and I talking about music which we often do.  I hope that you like the songs.  How do they relate to you?

I AM A ROCK

A winter's day

In a deep and dark December;

I am alone,

Gazing from my window to the streets below

On a freshly fallen silent shroud of snow.

I am a rock,

I am an island.

I've built walls,

A fortress deep and mighty,

That none may penetrate.

I have no need of friendship; friendship causes pain.

It's laughter and it's loving I disdain.

I am a rock,

I am an island.

Don't talk of love,

But I've heard the words before;

It's sleeping in my memory.

I won't disturb the slumber of feelings that have died.

If I never loved I never would have cried.

I am a rock,

I am an island.

I have my books

And my poetry to protect me;

I am shielded in my armor,

Hiding in my room, safe within my womb.

I touch no one and no one touches me.

I am a rock,

I am an island.

And a rock feels no pain;

And an island never cries.

THE FOOL ON A HILL

Day after day,

Alone on a hill,

The man with the foolish grin is keeping perfectly still

But nobody wants to know him,

They can see that he's just a fool,

And he never gives an answer,

But the fool on the hill,

Sees the sun going down,

And the eyes in his head,

See the world spinning 'round.

Well on the way,

Head in a cloud,

The man of a thousand voices talking perfectly loud

But nobody ever hears him,

or the sound he appears to make,

and he never seems to notice,

But the fool on the hill,

Sees the sun going down,

And the eyes in his head,

See the world spinning 'round.

And nobody seems to like him,

they can tell what he wants to do,

and he never shows his feelings,

But the fool on the hill,

Sees the sun going down,

And the eyes in his head,

See the world spinning 'round.

Ooh, ooh,

Round and round and round.

And he never listens to them,

He knows that they're the fools

They don't like him,

The fool on the hill

Sees the sun going down,

And the eyes in his head,

See the world spinning 'round.

Ooh,

Round and round and round