Memories of a Past Life
Individual
Poetry
8th Grade
Benjamin Tasker Middle
Emily Chan
Poetry
8th Grade
Benjamin Tasker Middle
Emily Chan
A short story (in poetry form) about living during terrorism to a happy (or will it be a happy one?) ending?
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I remember when I first opened my eyes
crowded by people, their smiles wide
the world was a happy place
with love, freedom, and joy
at least, that's what I thought
when I was still a young boy.
As the years went on, clouds became grey
instead of cotton white.
Life was seen in black and white
even on a summer's day
while I rocked on a broken chair
with the happy sunshine face peeled
listening to the sad tunes of a dove
I heard pleading cries in the air
looking up the street, to a young boy
who looked like me
playing with little lego toys
on a warm summer's day
looking down the street, to an older one
who looked like me
on his knees
while a gun was pointed
but no shots were fired
all on a summer's day.
(I never really expected
something like this.)
(SO SUDDEN!
Came at me out of nowhere!)
(Is this my future? It.. can't be.)
crowded by people, their smiles wide
the world was a happy place
with love, freedom, and joy
at least, that's what I thought
when I was still a young boy.
As the years went on, clouds became grey
instead of cotton white.
Life was seen in black and white
even on a summer's day
while I rocked on a broken chair
with the happy sunshine face peeled
listening to the sad tunes of a dove
I heard pleading cries in the air
looking up the street, to a young boy
who looked like me
playing with little lego toys
on a warm summer's day
looking down the street, to an older one
who looked like me
on his knees
while a gun was pointed
but no shots were fired
all on a summer's day.
(I never really expected
something like this.)
(SO SUDDEN!
Came at me out of nowhere!)
(Is this my future? It.. can't be.)
1
Age 8
When I was younger
maybe I was 8
I loved to go out at night
staying up late.
I'd look up to the stars
and make a wish
every night
even if there was no shooting star
even if I wasn't allowed to go outside so late
but I'd always wish for
my life to be forever like this
with happiness, joy, and bliss.
To hear no cries
and only laughter.
Even on the coldest of days, the hottest of days
the stormiest days, the most boring days
that there will never be a single tear shed
and there will never be a bruised head.
There will never be a frown.
And I will always be safe and sound
with nobody to drag me down.
(I shouldn't jinx it though.)
In my dreams do I see puffy, cottony clouds
smiling at me and singing
joyous tunes.
(I love those dreams.
They remind me of heaven, you know.)
When I was younger
maybe I was 8
I loved to go out at night
staying up late.
I'd look up to the stars
and make a wish
every night
even if there was no shooting star
even if I wasn't allowed to go outside so late
but I'd always wish for
my life to be forever like this
with happiness, joy, and bliss.
To hear no cries
and only laughter.
Even on the coldest of days, the hottest of days
the stormiest days, the most boring days
that there will never be a single tear shed
and there will never be a bruised head.
There will never be a frown.
And I will always be safe and sound
with nobody to drag me down.
(I shouldn't jinx it though.)
In my dreams do I see puffy, cottony clouds
smiling at me and singing
joyous tunes.
(I love those dreams.
They remind me of heaven, you know.)
Age 8
When I was younger
maybe I was 8
I loved to go out at night
staying up late.
I'd look up to the stars
and make a wish
every night
even if there was no shooting star
even if I wasn't allowed to go outside so late
but I'd always wish for
my life to be forever like this
with happiness, joy, and bliss.
To hear no cries
and only laughter.
Even on the coldest of days, the hottest of days
the stormiest days, the most boring days
that there will never be a single tear shed
and there will never be a bruised head.
There will never be a frown.
And I will always be safe and sound
with nobody to drag me down.
(I shouldn't jinx it though.)
In my dreams do I see puffy, cottony clouds
smiling at me and singing
joyous tunes.
(I love those dreams.
They remind me of heaven, you know.)
When I was younger
maybe I was 8
I loved to go out at night
staying up late.
I'd look up to the stars
and make a wish
every night
even if there was no shooting star
even if I wasn't allowed to go outside so late
but I'd always wish for
my life to be forever like this
with happiness, joy, and bliss.
To hear no cries
and only laughter.
Even on the coldest of days, the hottest of days
the stormiest days, the most boring days
that there will never be a single tear shed
and there will never be a bruised head.
There will never be a frown.
And I will always be safe and sound
with nobody to drag me down.
(I shouldn't jinx it though.)
In my dreams do I see puffy, cottony clouds
smiling at me and singing
joyous tunes.
(I love those dreams.
They remind me of heaven, you know.)
2
Age 13
5 years later
when I am now a teenager
and the color starts to slowly fade away.
My family, they're gone.
And I'm sent to a place where I don't belong
sent to a place where I don't feel safe
trapped in a room where it's always dark
there's no windows to escape
no food for me to eat
except a single slab of meat
only once per day.
I tried to hide, but they chose me
they chose me, that two-faced family
a family of liars
a family of hate
I don't even know why they chose me.
I was told to love, to never hate
but now I can't keep the smile on my face.
Maybe if I hope, I'll see day again
although it will still be black and grey.
Maybe if I try my best I can escape
unless I'm trapped for the rest of my life.
To never again breathe the fresh, dewy air.
To never again remember cheer.
To always remember
only when I was in vain.
(Only when I suffered.)
5 years later
when I am now a teenager
and the color starts to slowly fade away.
My family, they're gone.
And I'm sent to a place where I don't belong
sent to a place where I don't feel safe
trapped in a room where it's always dark
there's no windows to escape
no food for me to eat
except a single slab of meat
only once per day.
I tried to hide, but they chose me
they chose me, that two-faced family
a family of liars
a family of hate
I don't even know why they chose me.
I was told to love, to never hate
but now I can't keep the smile on my face.
Maybe if I hope, I'll see day again
although it will still be black and grey.
Maybe if I try my best I can escape
unless I'm trapped for the rest of my life.
To never again breathe the fresh, dewy air.
To never again remember cheer.
To always remember
only when I was in vain.
(Only when I suffered.)
3
Age 15
In a world so sober
the days fade away slowly
when the skies are grey
and hands are bound
cries fade away till there's no sound.
When people are arrested
for no reason
and the kids can't defend themselves
against their weapons.
Summer turns to fall,
fall turns to winter.
Winter, the season of the worst.
While the crickets chirp in the still & calm silence
yet the wicked humans and their violence
still go on....
Houses burned to ashes and soot
loud protests all afternoon
and I look at my hands
with my left pinky, a tightened rubber band
and my thumbs
covered in scars and bruises
worst of times when everyone's a loser
but is it still a game?
(Are we still in those
old video games from the 70s? No. Yes.)
(Living our life as a simulation,
always unable to break the glass.)
In a world so sober
the days fade away slowly
when the skies are grey
and hands are bound
cries fade away till there's no sound.
When people are arrested
for no reason
and the kids can't defend themselves
against their weapons.
Summer turns to fall,
fall turns to winter.
Winter, the season of the worst.
While the crickets chirp in the still & calm silence
yet the wicked humans and their violence
still go on....
Houses burned to ashes and soot
loud protests all afternoon
and I look at my hands
with my left pinky, a tightened rubber band
and my thumbs
covered in scars and bruises
worst of times when everyone's a loser
but is it still a game?
(Are we still in those
old video games from the 70s? No. Yes.)
(Living our life as a simulation,
always unable to break the glass.)
Age 15
In a world so sober
the days fade away slowly
when the skies are grey
and hands are bound
cries fade away till there's no sound.
When people are arrested
for no reason
and the kids can't defend themselves
against their weapons.
Summer turns to fall,
fall turns to winter.
Winter, the season of the worst.
While the crickets chirp in the still & calm silence
yet the wicked humans and their violence
still go on....
Houses burned to ashes and soot
loud protests all afternoon
and I look at my hands
with my left pinky, a tightened rubber band
and my thumbs
covered in scars and bruises
worst of times when everyone's a loser
but is it still a game?
(Are we still in those
old video games from the 70s? No. Yes.)
(Living our life as a simulation,
always unable to break the glass.)
In a world so sober
the days fade away slowly
when the skies are grey
and hands are bound
cries fade away till there's no sound.
When people are arrested
for no reason
and the kids can't defend themselves
against their weapons.
Summer turns to fall,
fall turns to winter.
Winter, the season of the worst.
While the crickets chirp in the still & calm silence
yet the wicked humans and their violence
still go on....
Houses burned to ashes and soot
loud protests all afternoon
and I look at my hands
with my left pinky, a tightened rubber band
and my thumbs
covered in scars and bruises
worst of times when everyone's a loser
but is it still a game?
(Are we still in those
old video games from the 70s? No. Yes.)
(Living our life as a simulation,
always unable to break the glass.)
4
Age 20
The world becomes more dreary
each and every day
the children's faces, dull and weary
and the sky, a lifeless grey.
Wind-up toys lay broken on theoak floors
dust filling the empty drawers
and spider babies crawl around.
Maybe it's my imagination
maybe it's just my tired eyes
but somehow
I still see a bit of blue
on the grey walls
where the paint peels
and broken wooden bats sprawled on the yard
sharpened knives stuffed in leather bags
I remember when I'd play on the streets
but now I wonder
if life will ever be like that again
even if I'll be too old
I want to relive
that happy childhood
even if it wasn't much
but it was enough for me.
It was enough for me to cherish
and love.
(And...
forget. I forgot about that.)
The world becomes more dreary
each and every day
the children's faces, dull and weary
and the sky, a lifeless grey.
Wind-up toys lay broken on theoak floors
dust filling the empty drawers
and spider babies crawl around.
Maybe it's my imagination
maybe it's just my tired eyes
but somehow
I still see a bit of blue
on the grey walls
where the paint peels
and broken wooden bats sprawled on the yard
sharpened knives stuffed in leather bags
I remember when I'd play on the streets
but now I wonder
if life will ever be like that again
even if I'll be too old
I want to relive
that happy childhood
even if it wasn't much
but it was enough for me.
It was enough for me to cherish
and love.
(And...
forget. I forgot about that.)
5
Age 24
I still remember her face
when her blue eyes
stared at me, soulless.
Like she was sleeping, yet awake
and her face
...
(It pains me to even describe her face..)
(I wish I wasn't there that day)
Vanished from my presence,
I thought I was robbed of my adolescence, but
I couldn't help but cry.
(I DON'T CARE IF
I'M ACTING like a CHILD.
We've ALL cried before.
Nothing new.)
I want to reverse that day
or forget about it
but it's that aching that breaks
me from the inside.
It never goes away.
And we're the only ones
able to quench the devil's thirst
by taking our love
and replacing it with hate.
The devil is the party host
and we're the food
on the guests' plates.
I still remember her face
when her blue eyes
stared at me, soulless.
Like she was sleeping, yet awake
and her face
...
(It pains me to even describe her face..)
(I wish I wasn't there that day)
Vanished from my presence,
I thought I was robbed of my adolescence, but
I couldn't help but cry.
(I DON'T CARE IF
I'M ACTING like a CHILD.
We've ALL cried before.
Nothing new.)
I want to reverse that day
or forget about it
but it's that aching that breaks
me from the inside.
It never goes away.
And we're the only ones
able to quench the devil's thirst
by taking our love
and replacing it with hate.
The devil is the party host
and we're the food
on the guests' plates.