|
Me. 2017. |
I was looking through my files tonight and I found a poem I wrote three years ago. This isn't anything super deep, or anything; its just the ramblings of a fifteen year old who was ready for Christmas. Said fifteen year old didn't keep with a consistent style of poetry, or care if it made sense or not, but I hope you'll like it anyway!
Twas the night before Christmas
When all through the house
Not a person was sleeping
Bedtime everyone was breaking
But no one really cared
Because the crime was shared
Mikayla was pinning like crazy
And being all together lazy
But she couldn’t go to sleep
Well, at least not very deep.
She was too excited about the next day
Even more then she could say
The music coming through her headphones
Is all cheer and nothing like the moans
Tis getting quite late into the night
But sleep is still not quite in sight
She must read a chapter or two
Or maybe a whole book might insue
But she doesn’t care that much
As the circumstances are such
But now she will go
And lie very low
But the morning can’t come soon enough
Not only because of all the stuff
But because of the family that will be there
Who all will all love me and care