September 25; Day Twenty-Five

Once again, I do not have much to say. After working 10 hours, my brain is drained. So, I thought I would pull out a notebook of poetry I wrote back in the late 1970s and reminisce.  Oh, the angst of a teenage girl. I would have been 16-17 years old when I wrote them.

I started reading to Liz. Even though I was laughing, she kept saying that for a teenage girl in or out of love at the time, the poems weren’t too bad. Then I read her the one where I rhymed “castle” with “pastle”.  They rhymed in spelling…sorta.

When I read Liz the one I’m about to type, she said she could just picture someone beating a bongo after each line read; the audience nodding their head and snapping their applause.

Ahem.

                                Who’s There?

                “Let me out!

                                I need to breathe.”

                I look around; I see no one.

                “Let me out!

                                I need to love.”

                I look inside me, I see no one.

                “Who’s there?” I ask.

                     “I’m lonely,” speaks my heart.

                “It’s so dead in here. Please do something soon.

I have no reason to keep beating.”

                Tears roll down my cheeks.

Snap, snap, snap go fingers all around the room.