Today I don't have a story, however, but two poems. The first one I wrote at around thirteen, perhaps, and apparently I was role-playing as a lonely king. Haha! I don't know... I've found it's best to just go with the flow when I reread stuff now.
The Sorrowful King
Tis no joy to own the land,
yet sit on throne alone.
For all who come in unto me
have some complaint or groan.
They all would like some favor done,
they think to rule is great.
But tis no joy to lonesome be;
to listen to complaints!
Oh, for one friend,
how glad I’d be!
But no one thinks how nice it’d be
to be a wee bit nice to me!
If I should pass my duties off,
they’d say I slacked my job.
But when I stay and sovereign be,
they call me “Stuck up snob”.
Oh, for one friend who’d understand!
Oh, for a kindly friend!
If I could have just one nice friend,
I’d serve him till the end.
The second one is one I wrote at ten. The sort of sad thing is, when I wrote all this stuff, I was so convinced it was pretty good. Now I look at these poems and I think they're positively hilarious with all the melodrama and flowery words. Oh well.
Fireworks
Ka-boom and a sizzle--
Showered ‘cross sky.
They bloom and then burst,
And colors do fly.
We sit back and watch
With “Ah’s” on our lips;
With kaleidoscope brilliance
Bright hues dance and skip.
The sky is black velvet,
The colors are gems.
They sprinkle the night
With rainbows again.
Like thunder and lightning!
They flash past the sky!
Then-- with sizzling grace...
They fall and they die.
Well, that's all for today. Maybe next time I'll share one of my first ever stories from six years old. Now that is something to laugh at. lol.
How do you view your old writing now? If you dare, I'd love it if you shared some in the comments below. :)
Have a lovely day!
<3
Victoria