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Wednesday, May 21st, 2003

Time Event
3:50p
11:25p
Found this poem on a scrap of paper with some old high school notebooks... so its a bit old.

*snip clip save etc.* (I am trying to get in the habit of throwing all these scraps away as soon as I store them here).

The Funeral
A dimlit room filled with
The sick sweet smell of roses
People stand about the casket mourning
All words are whispered
Shh... don't wake the dead.
11:30p
(Another scrap from high school... its crap but for some reason I've kept it this long, might as well save it too.)

We walked into the room
Single-file, silent
Ticking watch thunders in your ear
Desks arranged row on row seem to stretch for miles
So that when we sit all we dare look at is the
Straggly hair of our friend in front
Never left, never right,
"Begin" a sterned faced teacher shouts
And we do,
Eyes filled with panic
Stomach filled with butterflies
Faces so pale they seem transparent
Everything we studied seems so far away
We grope into the deep crevases of our teenaged minds
For the answers which we fear
May dictate the rest of our lives
Though we doubt we'll remember them five days from now
Let alone five years
Seconds pass, minutes, two hours
It seems like days
"Time's up, hand in your paper."
The silent room fills with chatter
Sighs of relief weigh down the air
One girl, crying, rushes out
The final exam is over.

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