I am starting a poem a week challenge for the next year. Hopefully by the time I'm 28, I should have 52 more poems. I can't guarantee they will be good but it will be good to see where it takes me. This is week 1.
There was a time once
where I did not speak to anyone all weekend,
not real conversations anyway.
It was late August
and I was wearing a sweater,
seems like fall came early that year.
I caught the last little bit
of The Tragically Hip.
He screamed and cried
and dropped the mic.
He had brain cancer,
I had a migraine.
This is the way that pain flows,
in and out of consciousness.
He had a death sentence,
I had lost some friends,
Goes to show that maybe there isn't
that much space in the world after all.
There was a time once
where I did not speak to anyone all weekend,
not real conversations anyway.
It was late August
and I was wearing a sweater,
seems like fall came early that year.
I caught the last little bit
of The Tragically Hip.
He screamed and cried
and dropped the mic.
He had brain cancer,
I had a migraine.
This is the way that pain flows,
in and out of consciousness.
He had a death sentence,
I had lost some friends,
Goes to show that maybe there isn't
that much space in the world after all.
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