Words of Wisdom

Youth is wasted on the young.

Saturday, 14 February 2009

Forty Minutes of Quiet


how did I get here?

days like today

sitting in front of fresh faced youth

firm flesh

bright hair

creased brows

click click click the pens writing

swish flip

the pages turning

sighs.

how did I get here?

this was me

why am I out in front?

why am I captain of this ship?

did I pass my test?


4 comments:

A Free Man said...

I'd pay good money for forty minutes of silence.

Nice verse.

Brittany said...

40 minutes sounds amazing! :)

carrie said...

i am loving your poetry...keep it coming.

we_be_toys said...

I love your poems - they have wonderful rhythm!
I often find myself in places, like school, and wonder how the hell I ended up here.