While visiting home briefly for the wake of a dear aunt, I decided to dig up my old journal which contained poems and short stories I conjured in my high school years. I also have one bound collection of my own 'masterpieces' aptly titled 'Thoughts and Memories'. I believe I was a better writer when I was in my teens than I am now.
Browsing through my journal, I read a mixture of poignancy and happiness.
Here's a sample:
Flowers smiling in the twilight
Brings me pain more intense than night
Blissfulness is a strange word to me,
I'm as melancholic as could be.
Laughter, where can I find you?
You left me forever blue.
A lonely cloud drifted by the breeze -
The rain to pour is my only wish.
I must have been good with words then and such a drama queen. I can't imagine myself putting together a poem nowadays.