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Adrianne Wadsworth
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Catalina Montecinos
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Song Of Myself (In the style of Whitman)
by Lisa Anderson (Age: 18)
copyright 10-08-2006


Age Rating: 7 to 127

 
Life began in the Windy City,
But the Wind has blown me Here.
And here I’ve stayed for many years
Alone in this place called Here.

Like the tepid water from the faucet rushes,
Life has flown by o’er the years.
It hasn’t been cold,
Hasn’t been warm,
But mild, unlike the climate Here.

The Seasons come and go as they please,
But the Summer stays near to my heart.
As the burning sun beats on the drive
The near glacial water springs from the green snake.
And as the sun burns, burns the Earth,
My mind is branded with the thoughts of Summer.

Childhood is Bliss, every child should know.
If I had, perhaps life would be more fulfilling.
But maybe it’s for the better,
For now my appreciation of Bliss is far greater.

Though Life is not Euphoria,
I feel content with myself.
Myself is who I am,
Blown from the City to Here,
But maybe, just maybe
Here isn’t so bad after all.


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11-01-2006 Angela Toshner    

Here....BAD....City...good! lol. At least in my mind. Course I have been living Here my whole life so, you sort of wish for a change after 17years(almost) But it is a great write as always. I love your writing!
angela


10-09-2006 Richard Reed Jr    

Your imagery was superb. You would have made Whitman proud. I liked the use of "here" because here is anywhere you are. I loved your opening.This very philosophical. -Strikes me that you must be a deep thinker.

Good Write,

Rich


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