- Poem by Amanda Walgrove, Grade 11
I've outgrown my own skinLook how old I've becomeI have my values sorted for thisFuture I'm beginning to seeLife truly is survival of the fittestAnd I seem to still be runningOn this thin conveyer beltThat only knows how to go faster
But the smell of Holiday is almost goneSledding in the snow doesn't tickle my sensesJumping in the leaves isn't the best part of autumnPicking ripe apples isn't a wild adventureThe evening still doesn't end with the sun's descentBut instead of catching fireflies I'm studying moreAnd getting lost in my own imaginationOf fictional creatures is just juvenile, right?
I've realized that in my worldThe simple things are still thereBut I just can't see them anymoreBecause this conveyer belt won't stopMy heart just beats fasterAs my legs keep running at their own willAnd my feet disappear once moreUnder the pressure and the speed
Editor's note: I like this poem. Of course I do. I like everything that we put up on this blog! In fact, the poet, Amanda Walgrove, has been featured on WORD before. The only problem is that I'm really stuck for a picture. I've read and re-read Blindfolded about 20 times (no foolin') and I just can't come up with any image to post with it. I'm clueless! I started out by thinking I should put up a picture of a girl who is older than she wants to be. But how in tarnation are you supposed to find that on the internerd?? At any rate, if you can think of a good picture that should go with this poem, email us at word@weeklyreader.com. Put "Picture for Amanda's poem" in the subject line. We'll hear you out. Coolio yo.
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