Oct 27, 2020
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An Apology to my Teachers
I sit and stare, my eyes as empty as the thoughts That you try to evolve In each mind In each pupil In each equally bored teen that they have forced Into another year of mind-numbing instruction On how to feel How to write How to believe in something that we cannot understand Nor hope to understand as you force us to listen To overly tired and used up lessons That hold no baring in our modern lives And do nothing to help us adapt To help us grow To help us become something more than Overly tired used up lessons For the next generation of empty-minded fools
Reflections on a cool week in summer
Reflections on a cool week in summer
Cool summer weather, Is welcome, though strange. We open the windows, The air off, for a change.
The pool is quite cold, The crowd is quite small. We shiver, but swim. Is this summer or fall?
The dog loves the weather, He’s at home in the cold. The rest of us dread The weather of old.
Next week will be warmer, The heat will renew. Enjoy this small break Before our summer ensues.
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A poem by me
A Question
Why must my mind forever play
With endless bits of yesterday?
I cannot, now, do less nor more
Than anything I did before.
But my imagination cannot set
Aside the game that's called Regret.