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Description
Pencil on Paper

Size 290 x 240 mm

Dear Boy-That-I-Was,

I'm you, just from the future. Probably twenty or so years from now. I just wanted to write you and remind you of some things that you've probably forgotten. So here we go.

I remember how beautiful Mom is. Don't forget that she loves you more than any other woman ever will.

I remember the excitement school brings. New pencils and clean sheets of paper just waiting to receive my creative genius. Don't forget that learning is magical.

I remember lying in bed at night, staring out at the window and whispering poems to the stars as they dance in the dark sky.

I remember so many things that my head is too full for them. I can't see them all. Sometimes I'm not sure if the things I remember are what really happened.

They tell me that I have too much of an imagination.

That I've lived here, in the Home, my whole life.

That my parents died when I was just a baby.

I can't remember how to read.

But I do remember this garden. It's exactly like the one that my mother has at home. Lots of beautiful flowers, homes to butterflies and big fat bumblebees that weigh down leaves with their heaviness.

But I can not remember my bedroom at home.

Or my mother's voice.

Or my name.

But I remember other things.

Written by the incomparable , as a prize for my winning literature entry in the 'Elements Competition' run by

Please give them a visit!!!

My Thricelight Deviant art gallery is copyright ©2008-2009
Thricelight. Stephen Paul Forshaw. All rights reserved.
This image may not be reproduced, copied, edited, published, transmitted, downloaded or uploaded in any way without my written consent.

Description
Pencil on Paper

Size 290 x 240 mm

Dear Boy-That-I-Was,

I'm you, just from the future. Probably twenty or so years from now. I just wanted to write you and remind you of some things that you've probably forgotten. So here we go.

I remember how beautiful Mom is. Don't forget that she loves you more than any other woman ever will.

I remember the excitement school brings. New pencils and clean sheets of paper just waiting to receive my creative genius. Don't forget that learning is magical.

I remember lying in bed at night, staring out at the window and whispering poems to the stars as they dance in the dark sky.

I remember so many things that my head is too full for them. I can't see them all. Sometimes I'm not sure if the things I remember are what really happened.

They tell me that I have too much of an imagination.

That I've lived here, in the Home, my whole life.

That my parents died when I was just a baby.

I can't remember how to read.

But I do remember this garden. It's exactly like the one that my mother has at home. Lots of beautiful flowers, homes to butterflies and big fat bumblebees that weigh down leaves with their heaviness.

But I can not remember my bedroom at home.

Or my mother's voice.

Or my name.

But I remember other things.

Written by the incomparable , as a prize for my winning literature entry in the 'Elements Competition' run by

Please give them a visit!!!

My Thricelight Deviant art gallery is copyright ©2008-2009
Thricelight. Stephen Paul Forshaw. All rights reserved.
This image may not be reproduced, copied, edited, published, transmitted, downloaded or uploaded in any way without my written consent.