An Archived Poem. Untitled.

So, I have a binder in which I keep everything I have ever written for school since about 6th or 7th grade, unfortunately none of my free-writes, just class assignments. I found this poem with a paper I wrote relating Walt Whitman and Regina Spektor (for those who are curious I wrote a comparison paper on Spektor’s, “The Consequence of Sound” and Whitman’s Leaves of Grass: part 6. Anyway, it’s a tad morbid. But I like it, and I think it’s cool to see what I was writing in 10th grade. So here’s to 15 year old angst, which is surprisingly similar to adult angst.

Leaves come falling from trees,
the pitter patter of rain.
The sounds of spring and fall,
water slipping down the drain.

Drowning out the sounds of –
of sun shining, snow falling.
Winter and summer mixed,
Time is out, you know who’s calling.

Someone’s knocking at your door
Better let them in.
Either way your time is up,
a new year won’t begin.

Death crept out from the den.
Pulled you through the drain,
sucked the life from everything
until you went insane.

Leaves come falling from trees,
The pitter patter of rain.
The sounds of spring and fall,
water slipping down the drain.

With seasons gone amiss,
snow in mid-July, and why?
The sounds of spring and fall,
made death give you a try.

-cdk

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