Oh, lookie what I found in the pile of forgotten files in my computer!
Aagh! A shout came through the door
Grr! A voice growled under the floor
Eek! Came from a dark corner
Oh my! I am a goner
Bang! The door swung open wide
Roar! Came the voice inside
Swipe! Went the knife into me
Gone! Was the world I see…
If I remember correctly, I’ve written that thing I call a poem when I was about twelve. Quite morbid and depressing, really, for a twelve year old to be thinking about death. There’s no history behind it. It was just one hyper recess break, a little girl, a pencil and a piece of paper.