This past weekend my family held a yard sale, our first in several years. After the first hectic hour, I remembered why I prefer to simply donate items to our local Goodwill and church charities. Sketchy people show up at yard sales, and now they all know where I live…
Other than the handful of Benjamins we earned, the adventure had another happy benefit – in a box of notepads and binders, my husband found a couple of my old journals. One held several poems I wrote in the late ’70s. I would have been in high school at the time, prime teenage angst years.
I couldn’t help but laugh when I read through my heartbreaking verse, pouring out the wretchedness only a love-lorn girl could feel. I don’t remember what was going on in my life at the time to evoke such despondency. Maybe I was pining over a lost, or unrequited love. Whatever it was, I obviously lived through it, but you couldn’t tell that from this free-form poem oozing a staggering amount of pathos.
From May, 1978 – I was a few months shy of my 16th birthday.
She Cries
Deep thoughts of loneliness creep
Through her mind
Like fingers groping for
Something in the darkSongs of love and happiness
Float through her mind
Like dark clouds
Ready to burst forth with
Their vile poisonPraying softly to herself
At night that these songs
Will become more than
Passing dreamsSitting in her little corner
Hugging her knees
Trying to hang on to realityWanting so much to be
Cradled again
To be as a child
To be rocked to sleep
Pacified by the low gentle
Hum of a Mother’s lullaby
Submitted as part of Shell’s “Pour Your Heart Out” writing prompt at Things I Can’t Say. Please stop by to read the other posts, and give a little comment love.
Thin spiral notebook 
Oh that is too cute! š
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Love it! Such deep, deep thoughts from someone so young. Also, I’m totally with you on the yard sale thing. My husband rallied the kids into helping clean out the garage, this summer — yes, it’s going to be THIS summer, dangit — promising they could split the earnings. Which is fine. Until, he suggested we have the garage sale last weekend, or this weekend. Interestingly enough, he’s scheduled to work both. So, uh, no.
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I love it. I remember those angst ridden writings. I wish I’d saved more of mine. And garage sales? Yeah… that’s why I have the pile of “things I need to sell but can’t quite do a garage sale.” I feel for ya!
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ahhh…I remember those years…and those poems…I think we all wrote them!
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Oh my gosh, how adorable! What a wonderful find, those old notebooks! I’m not sure if I would want to see poetry from my teenage years, though. I kind of think yours isn’t so bad!
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That is awesome…the poem and the fact that you still have it!
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How great that you found those! I never would want to relive those emotional teen years! I am seriously doubting whether I wnat to live through them with my own children!
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Such emotion from your younger self!
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What a great find! I have some journals from my teen years and I too am amazed at how melodramatic I seemed. I struggle with the idea of holding a garage sale. You’ve added to the cons list!
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Goodwill is starting to look like a better idea to me too!
Love the poem! Its so funny to revisit the teenage years! HA!
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