I was digging through some of my old files on my computer and came across these poems that I’d written around the time that I graduated from highschools.
Caveat Emptor: Teenage pretense of the finest variety.
Sentinels for some camp:
Unwavering in their duties.
They seemed to hold massive weapons that,
If one observed them,
Would think them able
To wipe out the existence of an entire town with those weapons.
Their rugged clothes and harsh features
Made them look like mercenaries.
But upon closer inspection,
One realized that they were only trees.
filling an atmosphere;
the sieved trees
marching resolutely to a standstill,
causing a cathedral vacuum.
clattering the void;
the dulled matter
sloshing through a barrier,
disrupting a pattern:
fix the hole
that lets the war through
the smitten haze.
lest the silence
Stars through darkness bursting forth;
Planets turning, turning ‘round;
Comets whizzing across
In an endless darkness all around.
Where does it all end?
Here, it’s forever bound.