PEOPLE CHANGE TOO FAST pt. 1

Hi! I bet you were expecting some deep blog post about some old friend, but you won’t be getting that. Although, in my opinion, you’ll be getting something even better. You’ll be getting a part of my past. A part that only few people have seen, but now, I’m letting anyone in the entire world see them. Okay, okay, I’ll show you what it is, it’s not too extravagant, it’s just writing, but trust me, you’ll be entertained by it, I promise. I will be showing you my fetus writing. Not writing that I wrote when I was in my mother’s womb, but writing from before this school year. 

Unfortunately, I couldn’t find any writing that I wrote before 7th grade but hopefully you will still enjoy. Trust me, right now my face is bright red and I still don’t know why I’m putting this on the Internet.

This is the exact face I made when I read my old writing. 

Photo courtesy: mental_floss

Here is my first piece I have to show you, a terrible poem by 12 year old Elise.

Untroubled

Format: Free Verse

rainy days are my dearest,

cool droplets against my skin,

sky roaring with tears,

people running and running,

and I,

watch as the world takes in the sorrow,

and makes it even more,

carefree.

-e.s.

I like that I was super hipster with my initials in lower case letters… 

Piece two is a mandala poem, and I’ll be honest, I have no idea what that is. 

If I were not me...

I’d be a puddle of water during a rain storm,

on a cool sidewalk

the color of a dark stormy day,

I’d be a chilly wind storm,

in the streets of Tulsa,

full of thoughts and jokes,

I’d be a cactus,

a deep, dark green,

standing still, withering under the hot sun,

I’d be a warm camp fire,

gaping in the woods,

hot enough to burn the many dreams of children,

I’d be a bright, exiting gold,

hiding within my self-consciousness,

I’d be a ukelele,

playing near the bewildering sea

-e.s.

Wow Elise, you were very… deep…

Piece three, okay, I actually love this poem and I’m pretty proud of it so I hope you genuinely enjoy it too :-)

untitled.jpg

he was as unknowable as a foreign language, 

as she was a girl with sixteen years of sorrow,

they spent most of their time trying not to cry,

as they filled their lungs with cancer,

they gazed upon shadows on the wall,

as they would never answer,

and as her hair fell upon her shoulders,

and as his freckles dotted his nose,

they both knew that love was never alike, 

although they never intended

-e.s.

I really do like this one.

Unfortunately, I have to split this post into two parts because it's too long otherwise.