What is love?
I have heard people speak of it.
I have read of it in books.
But I know that that is not enough,
Not to those who don't already know.
So I'm forced to wonder at the difference,
To wonder what I'm missing out on.
I ask you God;
Will I ever know?
Or was I sent into this lifetime,
To learn how to live alone.
This is my oldest surviving poem. I did it 3, maybe 4 years ago. The only other thing I have that might be older, is a story I did for creative writing called "My own personal heaven."
ReplyDelete-Though, as I write this my mum is looking over my shoulder, and tells me that when I was 6 or 7 my great uncle came to stay with us. And apparently I gave him a peace of paper with "I love you" written on it, which he still has. So, maybe that's the oldest surviving bit of writing that I did. *Grins embarrassingly*