Poems From My Past

Yesterday when I woke up, for some reason, I had a desire to go on a run. I’m not that into running, but I felt like a quick mile and a half jaunt would do me good. This is probably because I woke up in my childhood bed at my parents’ house. When I was 24 and unemployed and lived at my parents’ house, I started every morning with laps around the track at my old high school, which is only a few blocks away. Thus, I channeled my younger self by running.

While I was jogging around the track, I got an urge to purge and decided that I would clean out my room at my parent’s house. This ended up being a bigger task than I had anticipated and took most of the day. But in the end, I felt great. There’s something so rewarding about getting rid of possessions, especially ones that were important, but are no longer significant. Out with the old to make way for the new, right?

When I was clearing out everything that was underneath my bed, I came across two poems I wrote while in high school. They’re kind of funny and hold true to this day, I still love to shop and I’m crazy about the color pink, so I thought I would share them here.

Girl Who Loves to Shop

“Oh no!,” you cry, “how can it be?”
that anyone is more materialistic than she.
Maybe she’s sick or has a disease
for no one can spend money with such grace and such ease.
You name it, she has it, her closet is full,
because nothing can break that strong mall pull.
Search her crowded drawers to see what you’ll find;
‘What to wear tomorrow?” is always on her mind.
It relieves her stress and rewards a good deed;
New clothes are something you always could need!
Wearing the same outfit as someone else is the worst crime;
She is willing to go shopping any day, any time.
She’ll shop anywhere: Macy’s, Contempo, Nordstrom, Express
even Salvation Army and Good Will, she’ll have to confess.
Although she loves to act and dance and she loves friends and family more,
she didn’t want this poem to be a long, bothersome bore.
Always an over packer as you probably can see,
this poem is about how much shopping means to Katie!
She hates to admit it, but it can’t be denied
there is a love for shopping deep down inside.

Pink Poem

‘What color represents me?’ I think.
I wonder for a minute and then remember pink.
Pink is the color that I am
for I am a girly-girl, not a manly woman.
The point of this poem is to make you see
that pink is the color that represents me.
I am a feminist and want equal rights;
I would most likely get my ass kicked in any fist fights.
Everything is pink in my room
well, except for that old wicked witch broom.
Pink is the color of the heart, love, and passion,
and is often used in the latest fashion.
Flowers are pink, pretty sunsets are too;
pink makeup and lipstick will always make do.
For more than half of my life I have danced,
in pink satin toe shoes around the studio I have pranced.
Look under the pink dress and into my heart to see
the most important thing I really want to be.
Now maybe I think I should have done gold
for I long to shine like the stars and am really quite bold.
No, no I’m wrong, there is no other color that is perfect for me
because pink is the color that I always will be.

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