#11

Classes resumed a week later. For the mean time, we held our classes inside the study hall while the administration decided on what to do about the two collapsed buildings. Today we wrote poetry about our experience.

Doggerels
By Sam

Double, double toil and trouble;
Fire burn and cauldron bubble.
Crumbled pillars denude, pummeled
My chair, my chair beneath the rubble

Faulty foundations
The earth solid; building not
Thank God I’m alive

We people are sure about where we stand
What is left but confusion and heartbreak?
We go about our business just as planned
What good can come at the end of the wake?
But things will change when layers expand
The choices we make, each one we partake
Snap of a finger our lives turn to sand
Each decision puts our lives back at stake.

Miss Grothoff called me after class and asked me to explain the last poem. I said I was attempting to make a sonnet, but realized my rhyme scheme was wrong – so I jumbled it up and left it at eight lines. [Seriously, that’s what happened. Those are hard to write!]

[Edit: These stories are a mixture of my childhood memories and the sheer brilliance of my creative mind. You may sometimes find yourself saying, "hey, i remember that! but not thaaat..."]