We tread the paths we walked in youth.
We see the granite walls of gray.
The hallowed halls our forebears walked.
the fields of green they marched and drilled.
Still pond reflects, that things have changed.
But quiet hills remain the same.
The whispering wind adds her refrain.
His peace remains, through time unchanged.
How are we ever going to live?
How will we all complete the journey?
We must endure, we must survive.
For those that have been left behind.
Dedicated to the families of the victims of 4-16-07
And to the people of Southwestern Virginia
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