Poem in the Back of My Journal

[Fire Monkey]

Normally I write any comments after the poem but in this case I felt I should say something before you read this poem.

I found this in an exercise book while going through old papers some years back, there was nothing to indicate exactly when I wrote it, but the book it was jotted down in was the sort I used in grades 7 and 8 and I suspect I actually wrote it while in grade 7 because I spent a little more than a month in hospital then due to medical problems that they never did diagnose. The thing is, there were a couple times while I was in hospital back then when my mood as dark enough to have written this poem and I don't believe that it ever was that dark at any other time during grades 7 and 8 so I assume I wrote it in the hospital. I should say that while many of the details such as places I lived are true, the actual events are more symbolic than real and in particular, I never took pills to try and end my life - that was just a metaphor for the way I felt.

Also, my posting this now is not an indication of my current mood but only the fact that I am going though old poems and picking out ones to post and this happened to be one I looked over today - so don't worry, I'm fine. ;D

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I wrote a poem the first day of school and called it Joy
Because that was what I was looking for
And my teacher read it and smiled
She gave me a gold star and showed it to the class
And my mother hung it on the fridge and read it to everyone who came
And I felt good about it
We lived in a big old house and there was the smell of apples
Because my mother used to bake a lot of pies

I wrote a poem in school and called it Summer
Because that was when I wanted it to be
And my teacher nodded and said it was good
But only gave me a B because the spelling was poor
And my mother liked it but didn't hang it anywhere because I was too old for that
And I really wanted summer to come
We lived on Base in row housing called PMQs
And I spent my time in the woods nearby and watch the kids play

I wrote a poem called Doubts and Questions
Because that was what I had
And my teacher looked at me a funny way
But she gave me an A and asked if I wanted to talk
But I smiled and said I didn't
And I never showed it to anyone else
We lived in an apartment off Base
And the kids around all spoke French, but I didn't

I wrote this poem in the back of my journal and it had no title
Because there really was nothing left to say
And since there was no teacher I read it myself and said it was good
And I gave myself a hand full of pills
And laid back in the warm tub
And I left it beside me because I didn't think I could stand
I really wanted to sleep
And I thought maybe now I could

[SweetSilverBird]

As a poem, it is really well written, following your experiences from how it began in the schools that sometimes were attached to the military... or not, but you show your loss of illusions. How horrible that must have been. But on the other hand you did learn that you yourself could say what was good. In the end though, I believe you were just tired. I think you and I wrote some of our best poems when we were quite young.

[Fire Monkey]

I would have said disillusioned, but yes, I was very tired back then. I saw the world the way it should be and the way it was and it seemed so obvious how to fix it all so I couldn't understand why people didn't just do it. I suppose I was a bit like Don Quixote - trying to fix the world one windmill at a time - didn't work any better for me than it did for him.