Written in 1983. Cobwebs hang from the drawers. The empty seat covered with dust sits abandoned by the desk. Death now sits here looking at thirty desks aligned in six rows. No more do children laugh in this place. No more does teacher teach the students. The Apple perfectly red […]
Written in 1983. Home is where the heart is, I hear people say. But home is something much more. Home is where the joy is. Home is the constant happiness in a changing, hurting world. But I left Home long ago. A Home of grass lands and animals. A Home […]
Another poem written during my creative writing special course. My teacher liked it, but now that I read it I know it needs some work. New jeans are nice, but old jeans are better. Old shoes are nice, but new shoes are better. Why do they insist on new jeans […]
Written in February 1983. I am trapped within this cage. I can’t see or feel the cage, but I sense its presence. Is it me? Is it my peers? Is it life? Why can’t I fly? I want to be free! But how can one escape from something unseen, and […]
1983 was a year a great angst for me. I wanted so much to have a boyfriend … didn’t happen. I was having issues with friends … my ADD-induced social cluelessness didn’t help. So, a lot of my poetry from that year deals with love and frustration and teen angst. […]
In 1983, I did an independent study focused on my creative writing. I sat behind the teacher as he taught one class, and did my own thing. That’s why I have so much stuff to post from that year. During that course, I seemed quite fixated on war. The Boy […]
