Poem: Life

Life is such a deep hole
That I wish I was a mole.
Life is so very strange.
It's time for a change,
So I can get out of this hole.
Life is so steep,
That I can't even peep
Into what I would like my future to be.

There must be something wrong with me;
It's hard for me to talk to you,
Can't you see?
I'm better as a listener,
Than as a talker.
All of my real emotion is locked up inside,
So that's why I hide,
This way you can't see if I cried.

Life is sometimes so cold,
So I try to mold
My emotions to conform to everyone else.
Life is often so sad,
So I don't want people to be mad,
To know how sad I was.
In short, I am like that mole,
The mole inside the deep hole.

- March 29, 1990

I just added this to my creatively cathy side. But, wanted to talk about this here. The past 2 days I've been looking for my Copyright certificate of registration forms. From 1989 until 1993, I wrote many, many poems. Over the past week, it has been important to me to find these works, and not because of the English class I just took. It feels like part of my life is missing without these poems. So, hopefully, this week, the Library of Congress, who holds my original submissions, will help me get the copies back.

But, right now, this is what I'm feeling, a little sad. Like usual, I'll just be by myself and get over my episode.

Sorry, don't mean to be a downer; it's just happened this way today. It should clear up in a day or 2.

8^ (