Nicole
"Someday," she said,
her voice firm with passion
and blazing with resolve.
"You will read my poems
in your class." She smiled.
She was not yet nineteen,
at the precipice of adulthood;
she should have been clumsy,
unsure in this foreign world,
stumbling, as most do.
But she knew in her depth
with a soul-searing certainty,
that few ever find before death,
of the cut of her path in life.
"Someday..." she told our professor,
the tone and worlds full
of the self-certainty of an adult.
"You will teach my poems."
The words echo now in my head
and reverberate in my soul.
Years afterwards, now grown,
I can't help but wish that
I had just a shred, a sliver,
of that knowledge of my own soul.
Created: October 2008
Last Edited: 23 October 2008
Notes: This based on something that happened my freshmen year in college. I was friends with this girl, Nicole, and she actually said this to one of my professors. The surety that she must have had to say that not only out loud, but also to a professor, still blows my mind.
her voice firm with passion
and blazing with resolve.
"You will read my poems
in your class." She smiled.
She was not yet nineteen,
at the precipice of adulthood;
she should have been clumsy,
unsure in this foreign world,
stumbling, as most do.
But she knew in her depth
with a soul-searing certainty,
that few ever find before death,
of the cut of her path in life.
"Someday..." she told our professor,
the tone and worlds full
of the self-certainty of an adult.
"You will teach my poems."
The words echo now in my head
and reverberate in my soul.
Years afterwards, now grown,
I can't help but wish that
I had just a shred, a sliver,
of that knowledge of my own soul.
Created: October 2008
Last Edited: 23 October 2008
Notes: This based on something that happened my freshmen year in college. I was friends with this girl, Nicole, and she actually said this to one of my professors. The surety that she must have had to say that not only out loud, but also to a professor, still blows my mind.