I remember writing two poems for a friend who's grandfather had just died. I, in typical bleeding-heart and over-identifying or being empathetic and not knowing it, I scurried to a journal and wrote two poems for him. This, I find hilarious considering he wasn't an emotional guy, nor did he have the patience to actually finish reading one of the many poems I probably sent that poor sucker.
Anyway, all that aside. The poems "The Shell" and "Life's Proclamation" aren't too shabby. I get it now, I don't remember getting it then? Maybe I did? Or pretended I did? I'm not quite sure as the way life has turned out lately, anything is possible, and I'm not really good at giving myself credit, so I'm going with : I was twenty-one and faking it. Maybe...
So...Yeah. That was a fun find.
Carry on, friends and foes. Get out there and write. Get out there and live. Life is fleeting and fast.
"Shimmer with a smile. Life is hard, bloom anyway."