Ah poetry in motion
Do you remember poetry.com? That website where you can win $10,000 if you submit a poem to them? Well I did back in the day. I wrote a poem for my AP English class senior year and then sent it in to the website. And then promptly forgot about it until today, when I got a google alert that had my sister's poem come up. And then I found this gem of a poem that I had wrote. I wrote it because I was waiting for my college acceptance letters to come in the mail. But it's so funny how it still relates today as I wait now for review books and such to arrive.
And without further adieu, my poem.
Mail
Is the feeling you get in your stomach.
You know that if you're patient it will come
Yet you sit there looking out the window
Waiting for that white truck to come.
You start to count the cars that pass by,
One, two, three. . .
Until you've reached 100 and it's still not here.
So you attempt to think of other things,
Of what has happened in the day and such.
But all the while, in the back of your mind
The thought of the mailman never leaves.
You try to read a book, listen to music, watch some TV.
Doing anything to distract you.
But when you start reading about the Pony Express
And the radio starts playing "Please Mr. Postman",
You realize you just can't win.
The U.S. Post Office is now in control of you.
It has enveloped you the wait, the anxiousness, all is due
To the mail truck, it is evil.
Copyright 2000. Deborah K.
And without further adieu, my poem.
The worst thing about waiting for the mail
Is the feeling you get in your stomach.
You know that if you're patient it will come
Yet you sit there looking out the window
Waiting for that white truck to come.
You start to count the cars that pass by,
One, two, three. . .
Until you've reached 100 and it's still not here.
So you attempt to think of other things,
Of what has happened in the day and such.
But all the while, in the back of your mind
The thought of the mailman never leaves.
You try to read a book, listen to music, watch some TV.
Doing anything to distract you.
But when you start reading about the Pony Express
And the radio starts playing "Please Mr. Postman",
You realize you just can't win.
The U.S. Post Office is now in control of you.
It has enveloped you the wait, the anxiousness, all is due
To the mail truck, it is evil.
Copyright 2000. Deborah K.
The more things change the more they stay the same!
ReplyDeleteHehe! In the summer, when the windows are open, I can totally hear the mail truck, it makes a special sound! Even though it's on the other side of the street and I live in the back of the house, I can still hear it! :P
ReplyDeleteoh yes, I have always longed for the mail.
ReplyDelete