Back In '63
Author: Shiloh


it was back in '63
when I was still a virgin
in everything that life was to throw at me,
at least, up until November 22...
that was when my eyes
and my mind
started to open up
and life started to scare the hell out of me.

back in '63
everything still seemed beautiful
and happy and warm and peaceful
and there was just no way that I could have imagined
the things that I was headed for,
the things that I was going to experience,
the things that I was going to carry with me forever...
like Friday, November 22...

it was back in '63
when I had the world in front of me,
and I was going to do so many grand and wonderful things
and I was gong to make a difference...
I was going to do something...
and it was going to count,
it was going to be good...
and I foolishly thought that everything was going to be great,
just like in my dreams,
right up until November 22...

back in '63
I was all of sixteen
and full of piss and vinegar
and ready to take on the world...
or, at least, the world as I saw it...
all paisley and flowered and smiles,
blue skies and groovy music,
fresh breezes and a great big brotherhood of love...
then suddenly it was November 22...

instead of all the plans I had for the weekend,
I sat in front of the television set
and watched, in horrible black and white,
Camelot, as it came tumbling down to the ground,
over and over and over again...
and all I could do was wonder, "Why...?"
and that was the day that I started to grow up...
Friday, November 22...

stores closed.
schools closed.
banks and government buildings closed.
people wept openly on the streets,
and not just in America... there was that bit of beauty in it...
there was a bus full of people pulled to the curb,
with the doors open, and the bus driver crying
with his head cradled on his arms over the steering wheel.
everywhere you looked people walked about staring off into space,
not really focused on anything, not really seeing anything,
just sort of numb,- walking numb, I guess...
and tears.
tears flowed like streams, rivers, torrents and floods
but they weren't able to wash away the hurt and the pain
and the emotions that were part of the death of something beautiful...
the death of Camelot.

and that was when I started to grow up
back in '63


Comments on this poem/writing:

shiloh... ( -- Monday, November 22 2010, 07:50 am

today is the anniversary...

I find it difficult to understand how it has been forty-seven years since this tragedy happened... I can still feel the pain, the anger, the hurt, as if it was just yesterday...
anonymous ( -- Monday, November 22 2010, 10:46 am

for those that remember

I am one of them that still remember that day. I was in the 9th grade. Couldn't keep my eyes off the 16" black & white TV/w a nob to change the channels & it was on all 4 channels.They sent us home from school that day. The world stopped & I stopped.
Name:                                           Remember Me

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