I did something similar in the past 2 hours. I went through the old neglected sectors of my hard disk (ah! I miss those primitive days of a simple, humble shoe-box!) And I came up with some really puerile stuff. Here is a poem I wrote in the beginning of my first year of graduation. (I used to flatter myself by calling them poems... I hope you allow me to live in my sweet ignorance.) The poem is about the truth of college life.
It’s a transition encompassed, in a step through a gate:
A transition from a time when ignorance was a virtue.
When a modest past merges with an extravagant uncertain future,
To give meaning and form to words like aim, dreams and expectations.
The media’s mirage slowly crumbles, as reality floats before the eye,
To prove that all that was heard from “experience” was, after all, just a lie.
No maidens or angelic incarnations. No comedic sidekicks to while away loose time.
No song and dance at the drop of a hat. All considered to be an integral part of being sublime.
The “extravagant uncertain future” slowly dissolves so that only “uncertain” is true.
And the notion that life would start with a step through a gate, was just a case where mind misconstrued.
The transition after all was just a change of costume. The gate by its side had a moat.
And the freedom that the soul wanted to rejoice, was the freedom of a hapless scapegoat.
A transition from a time when ignorance was a virtue.
When a modest past merges with an extravagant uncertain future,
To give meaning and form to words like aim, dreams and expectations.
The media’s mirage slowly crumbles, as reality floats before the eye,
To prove that all that was heard from “experience” was, after all, just a lie.
No maidens or angelic incarnations. No comedic sidekicks to while away loose time.
No song and dance at the drop of a hat. All considered to be an integral part of being sublime.
The “extravagant uncertain future” slowly dissolves so that only “uncertain” is true.
And the notion that life would start with a step through a gate, was just a case where mind misconstrued.
The transition after all was just a change of costume. The gate by its side had a moat.
And the freedom that the soul wanted to rejoice, was the freedom of a hapless scapegoat.
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Such is the irony of life..... I still find this poem to be true..... lets give it some more years to cure... maybe it'll taste better.... maybe....
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