I visited my parents in Texas and pulled out from the dusty depths of my old bedroom closet, a box. It had been stored at the bottom of this closet for a multitude of years. I kind of knew what was in it but over the years had forgotten about the memories that awaited. Well to my horror and surprise, there was pages upon pages of teen angst poetry. It’s so, so bad that it’s almost good in its horribleness.

So in the spirit of this blog of designingLULA, it would be a shame if I didn’t share some of these gems into the psyche of my teen angst self. Hahaha…enjoy.

Season’s Bass
(undated, sometime between 1991-1994)

The wind blows softly
A feather tickling my skin
The aroma of Spring
A fresh winter crisp
The drumming of Summer
Beating its way in
The tapping of Spring
Slowly dying out
The season of the year
An array of tastey fruits
Some sour
Some sweet
All a quite intriguing experience