Blast from the Past

I happened to stumble upon a collection of poems I wrote as a 5th grader, being a high school senior now, that means 7 years ago. This finding brought me back to the days Mrs. Fritz's stuffy classroom at my parochial elementary school when the most important things in the world were for square and who got the last blue otter pop. I left in the spelling errors for authenticity, and am rather impressed with my ten-year-old self.

In a Diary

I can write my life
away from here
when sadness comes
shed a tear
feel lost and lonesome
draw you near
to share a story
with you, my dear
pages fill up
a lifes whole year
fantastic adventures
all end with a cheer
there is something
about my book that I fear
these recolections
may not always be clear
for there often less grand
than I make them appear

Another Chance

Deep breaths
the air is
cold and fresh
it's sunny
the day after a storm
fragranse of
wet concreet and grass
night has renewed
starting over
mistakes stay
in the past
deep breaths

Questions

People assume the oposite of
life is death
but isnt death the
ending of life?
So would birth,
the beggining of life,
be the opposite of
death?
then what is the
opposite of life?
These questions
consume me.

Leaves Haiku

Red, orange, brown, and green
all seasons leaves will be seen
summer fall and spring