High School Poems

This is something a little different. I am going to write down some of my poems from high school.  I have them on fading paper so this is a good way to save them (unless cyberspace crashes one day).  Anyway, I am posting some of them, but please note that I was not as depressed as I sound in some of these poems. And especially now after so many years, thank G-d for emuna, Torah and HaShem! These poems no longer represent who I am. Here we go:

Sleep

Relaxation,

   rest,

      thoughts swirling around.

A jumble of memories,

   the future,

      and now.

Tossing,

   turning,

      again and again,

Sorting the "Where"

   the "Who" and

       and the "When"

Darkness,

   stillness,

       muscles relax.

Mind keeps on working,

            assembling

                    the facts.

Exhaustion,

   fatigue,

      drowsiness comes.

Gliding, the mind slides,

            murmurs,

                 hums.

Muscles,

  tendons,

         physically weak,

Brain always working,

             now records:

                     "Sleep"

The Depths of Darkness

The sky is dark,

The moon is grey,

But through the mist

I see the way.

A star beyond

Is coming near,

It shines quite bright 

To stop all fear.

Now I can't see 

The dark of night,

For I'm blinded by

The warming light.

Who is to Blame?

Once I had a little doll,

What was her name?

Amy? No. Sue? No.

Oh, what does it matter.

I was given her to look after.

She had no mind; 

I gave her mine.

She had no feelings or expressions;

Mine were hers.

She was bad,

      I spanked her.

She was good,

      I was happy.

I fed her,

But she never ate...

She grew up anyways,

     Or at least  

      I did!

Now she knew right from wrong.

She always listened.

She was an obedient child,

Always listened.

Finally, I set her up on her shelf to live

for herself.

I checked in on her,

Never changing her habits.

Then I changed.

I became more mature,

My wisdom grew with experience.

Then I noticed when I checked again -

She had not changed,

But she was

       doing

             wrong!

I had taught her.

She listened well.

The Elastic

An elastic,

So flexible yet so brittle.

My mind,

Same as this rubbery band.

So many forces,

     Stretching,

           Pulling,

                Exerting all their energy

Upon this mangled, jumble of life.

Opposing strengths

     Tugging

          Hopelessly

                In all directions,

Desperate to put the protrusion on their side.

But force is inhuman,

     How could it know,

            Or be expected to see

That it surrounds 

           and strangles

                 its purpose?

How could it know....

   Elastics break!

Tile

           

Ok, this next one was a project for school. We had to sit at our desks and look at something and write a poem about it.  This is what I came up with:

A tile on the floor,

Lonely and alone,

Within, lie numerous,

               multicolored,

                     multi-shapes.

All but one.... a three dimensional metal piece

of something!

A piece of what?

               Me!

               A representative of me;

Alone yet surrounded by everyone!

              Not me you say?

              You say there's a compatible shape beside

              piece of something? 

              The piece of me?

Oh I see it!

It's right there next to me - I mean next to the piece of something.

              Then when I reach out....

                        Why is it gone?

It was never really there.

Was it?

There are more, but these are enough.  I hope you enjoyed my trip down memory lane.  We all change... G-d willing for the better. Baruch HaShem!