On Strangers

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Here, in America, two common phrases we teach our children are “Stranger Danger” and “Don’t Talk to Strangers.” The phrases are simply meant to dissuade children from talking to people they don’t know.

Why do we fear strangers? Strangers represent the unknown to us. And we fear the unknown and what we don’t understand.

But as for me, I fear what I know. Because people I have let close to me have hurt me far greater than any stranger.

We allow ourselves to be hurt by others and we put value on words and actions from those individuals we allow to be close to us.

There is risk in never knowing a stranger.

There is also risk in trusting no one and finding ourselves alone, forever, without any friends.

Memories Were Made

Image Copyright 2015 - Jarrod R. Champagne

Image Copyright 2015 – Jarrod R. Champagne

Image Copyright 2015 - Jarrod R. Champagne

Image Copyright 2015 – Jarrod R. Champagne

I’m now a shell,

Viewed from far away,

But in these walls,

So many memories were made,

They laughed,

They cried,

The place where Grandpa died,

Sprawling land,

Cozy nook,

Old climbing tree,

Small kitchen where they cooked,

Thanksgiving and Christmas,

Each and every birthday,

Secret diaries,

Puppy love,

First crush,

Leading to first heartbreak,

Panel behind the closet door,

I kept those secrets locked away,

I sheltered each of you,

Growing from babies,

To sweet little children,

And into such beautiful ladies,

As you moved out on your own,

Development won the land,

Abandoned I became,

Soon I will be torn down,

But do not shed a tear,

Remember me fondly in your memories,

Because in me your lives were built,

Don’t be afraid,

There in your heart,

I will always stay.

This house sits off of Route 17 in Fredericksburg, Virginia. It has always intrigued me being that the land around it now contains an Arby’s and a 7-11 convenience store. When the house was in its prime, I imagine the land was very different. It is apparent that no one has lived in it for many years. I have always liked abandoned buildings and homes. I always tried to imagine what occurred there and the history surrounding the area.

At Bay

Through My Eyes

He let her hold his hand,

But not his heart,

So much that happened,

Where would he ever start?

She felt such dismay,

Innocent blood spilled on the floor,

Seemed never to be washed way,

A past he couldn’t ignore,

Sins committed from others,

From a time long before,

They both had their druthers,

But wishing as she may,

She knew his past,

Would keep her love at bay.

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