Poems of the olden days: Poem #1

I was browsing through the files in my external hard disk when I saw a folder named "WORDS". Curiosity got the better of me and I ended up reading the poems I wrote in my younger years. I must admit, it has been such a long time since I wrote any poem. Now I feel guilty for not doing it. 

I was writing the Literature Review (along with other chapters simultaneously) when I realised I am not as fast thinker as I used to be when it comes to writing nowadays. Perhaps those poem writing did help me when I wrote. I remember sitting at the table and come up with a full assignment in 2 hours (woke up at 6, delivered the assignment at 8 am, received good marks). I have no idea how I can do that, but I do realise I get a bit rusty lately. I could no longer do that. I know I don't read as much except for those darn journals and books, maybe I lack of imagination in writing because I neglect the simple joy of reading what I want.

To tell the truth I have tonnes of unread books on the shelves, a collection I gathered only quite recently during my two-year stay in KL. Before that I seldom buy books. I just don't think it's worth it. But in KL its different…there's Book Xcess and receiving that Book Voucher for IPTA students also played the part in me ending up with many unread books. I feel glad though, seeing that I will not run out of reading materials for another year or so. Anisa gave me two books last birthday and when we parted in December she asked me what I want as parting gifts, I pointed to the 6 masterpieces by Jane Austen. All unread as of today.

I have no idea what to post in this blog so I shall upload my poems one by one until I run out of poems and then I probably have to write new poems. Here's one I wrote when I was 14. I remember writing this on an exam writing pad and folding it many times so it fits in my school uniform pocket. I think I got the ideas from this story book my cousin gave me. The book was about fairies who lost the moon during a party or something. I lost the book but I'm glad to have this poem as a reminder of the book.

My Daffodils and Primroses

Daffodils,

Red, blue and white,

Primroses,

Indigo, yellow and white,

I watched them grow,

From a distance,

Beautiful as it seems,

But late in the spring,

Describe my happiness,

Late and undescriptive,

Is it happy?

Or is it sad?

Like old crusty crackers,

Never holds long enough,

My daffodils…and primroses!

p/s: if you steal my poem, I might not know but my God does. And if you're agnostic, my God would still know.