In a recent post, I showed you all one of my early attempts at writing a story. Since I currently have nothing profound to ramble on about, and since I'm procrastinating the completion of my 2,000-words-per-day writing goal on a top-secret project I'm not going to discuss for fear that a lightning bolt will shoot down from the heavens and fry me to the dining room chair in which I am currently lounging, I decided it would be a good idea to share more of my old writing with you.
In the loosest sense of the word, these can be called "poems."
Don't ask. Just don't.
Have I ever mentioned that I absolutely despise beer? Now wine, on the other hand...
Author's note: I did not own a cat in 1996.
This completes the two-page spread for the previous poem. Apparently the wind blew that poor kitty all the way to Egypt.
I should probably get back to writing now. Good night!
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ReplyDeleteOh wow...I feel like I wrote the same poems as you at that age! :D My mom used to have me dictate poems and stories to her before I could write, and they are the cutest nonsense ever!! I love reading these ancient chronicles of where the love of writing began: in backwards letters and cliches. They were so, so beautiful to us then. <3 =)
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