I've been digging through massive amounts of stuff from my past lately. I have found many poems and stories I wrote as a child. This is one of my favorites. I don't know exactly when I wrote it, but I'm guessing by the printing and paper it is written on that I was probably in 5th or 6th grade. When I find things like this, it makes me think that maybe I really haven't changed that much after all. I loved writing then, and I still do. I really get a kick out of the last phrase. That's still a problem for me!
As the leaves are all gone off the tree,
It’s time to submit some small poetry.
And as I start this small little mite
I know not what I’m going to write.
I know that I have a terrible urge
To write this poem and invariably surge
Forward into ecstasy –
Fame and fortune all for me!
So as I continue on to write
And see more letters on the white
Paper that’s in front of me
Hang on tight and you will see
How really talented I can be
As I surge forward into ecstasy!
And as I near the half of the page
There’s really no way I can gauge
Exactly what this poem will say.
All I know is that today
I have this uncontrollably wonderful urge
That into ecstasy my self will surge.
By submitting this poem until your brain
I hope that you may possibly gain
Some knowledge then and maybe know
Exactly, truly why I’ll go
Forward into ecstasy.
Would you like to come with me?
All you’d have to do is write
A wonderful poem – just like this mite.
But maybe that isn’t possible at all
Cause I’m so talented and by gol’
I’m getting tired and wore and sore
But I know you really do adore
This small bit of poetry
Submitted by the only me.
I’m slurring my speech and beginning to drawl
And I guess I really said nothing at all.