I Was Once a Casualty of Literature

I'm cleaning out at my house, trying to simplify and make some room for new "grown-up" furniture. Living in a townhome, I have limited storage space, so I have bins and trunks and dressers stashed around holding all my "treasures." I've cleaned out every year, but the stuff seems to multiply. Partly because my mom also cleaned out and passed all my childhood things to me over the past few years.

Things I've written make up a large chunk of the items my mom saved for me from my growing up years. Stories, poems, songs, journals, letters... I was quite prolific back in the day. But I have to share with you one particular beauty I came across last night.

It's from a literary magazine that my advanced learning class "published" when I was in 8th grade. We called the mag "Casualties of Literature," and it was fitting... as most of the pieces do read pretty tragically now. :)

Here's one of my contributions, which made me laugh out loud when I read it last night:

Dumber Than a Box of Rocks

Dumber than a box of rocks.
A box of rocks may not be dumb.
If the rocks inside are educated.
And who says rocks can't learn?
Has anyone ever tried to teach them?
I say we teach the rocks!
I say we let them out of their box!
Why must they be in a box?
What a horrible way to live.
Would you want to live in a box?
With people calling you dumb?
I think not.
Who knows? Rocks may be smarter than us.
Nobody knows because rocks never
Take S.A.T's or A.C.T's
Or any kind of T's.
All of these years we may be the dumb ones,
And rocks could be highly intellectual.


See what I mean? I was a victim of my own brilliance.