This morning...

This a journal entry I made when I was 16.  Strangely enough, all of these first entries seem to be lists or poems... Wonder what that says about the teenage me...

This morning I walked and I talked to myself

Which is fun when there's something to say

Then to my attention an odd site then came

A puddle on a beautiful day!

I threw caution aside and jumped right on in

Though the shoes I had on were quite new

In a moment had I, a shock...

I not landed but instead passed on through!

Now I'm stuck in a puddle as autos drive by

Myself in a puddle not one of them spy

By now, if by chance, you're reading my write

THE PUDDLE'S ON PEACHTREE AND MAIN!

I sit and I stare...

I wrote this entry in my journal a month after my 16th birthday. It is another poem, but this one seems more like the sillier me I remember...

I sit and I stare at a spot on the wall

When the spot fades, I'm sure I'll se nothing at all

I'll sit and I'll stare where the spot used to be

I'll sit and I'll think what that spot meant to me

I'll sit and I'll think and I'll stare at the place

Where the spot used to be before the spo fell from grace

"Do spots have a heaven?" I'll ask of the wall

But I know that the wall wil say say nothing at all

Though the day be long...

This is the second journal entry I ever made... just a month after my 16th birthday. You'd think it would have been something about getting my licence or in fact, failing to get my licence on the first try... but no... it was a poem...

Though the day be long

And the nights be cold

Though the mountains be high

And the rivers bold

I will find my place

in the world's confusion.

I'll not see the hell,

But instead the illusion.

While I travel the roads

While I still sing my song

I will not wrong the rights

though I might write the wrong

I will follow my heart

To wherever it takes me

Through Heaven or else

Far away though they may be

And all the while

I'll remember a friend

And I'll sing my own song

Till the end comes the end.