While cleaning out some old boxes, I found some interesting stuff from my childhood. Maybe I should start a new blog: Bad Teenage Poetry. Ok, maybe just a blog section.
Here’s the first entry, dated February 9, 1998. I would have been fifteen.
For your entertainment.Walls Thunder rumbles in the distance My walls shudder around me Lightning flashes Blinding the sky The walls quiver as I watch All my life, I’ve built these walls Made from stone and working hands My need for protection The storm presses against the stones I feel the pressure building My walls shudder again In vain I try to keep them up But these walls took years to build And seconds to destroy I try to block out the impending storm But winds whip around me Throwing me like a leaf in the fall breeze My hands cover my terrified face As I realize I’ve no protection The storm can have me now As walls are never sturdy enough- Pushing walls, they seem solid But there is always something stronger. I stand tall; proud When the walls hold me up But now I try to hide from the storm. Lightning misses me, I crumble more Rain pelts me, tiny stones from a deafening sky The storm has come back, Stronger than walls. These walls fall again What good are falling walls?