When I look at myself in the mirror
I see how my life story effects it.
I see the tears, the pain, the love.
The love I miss is the love of my life.
The love I am scared to lose.
I lost my family, I found love.
But he went to war to make this over.
I want peace, not blood.
I look at this heart he gave me
So that I never leave anyone.
I am waiting for him to get back.
And we will have our wedding.
We will move to a peaceful place
Where there is no war.
Only me and my love.
I lost my parents because of war.
But I will not lose my love.
I wait and read my book; it's drama.
So not true, but I believe that miracles happen.
I am Indian, so it's hard for me to see blood.
I am Zinza who is waiting for my love.
I miss my love.
I wait for him forever.
He is my love.
He and I will live in peace some day.
Sometime me and my love.
- by Lili Garkavets, age 15
[Editor's note: After reading poetry, fiction and non-fiction representing various groups who lived in or came to Oregon in the 1700s and 1800s, youth were asked to write a poem from the perspective of someone new or established in the region during that time. This is one of the poems.]