Imagine you’re standing on a rooftop, and there is a crowd below waiting to hear you speak. You only have one sentence, and that will be the last words the world remembers you by. It can’t be a sentence someone else might say. It has to be your own voice. Something uniquely you. What would you say? This is my sentence. #writingexercise
I wrote this poem when I was in grade nine. I received a B-, which I think is rather low for such teenage insight! My teacher at the time was notorious in her despise of all things dark and tragic, ‘death’ was a big taboo. I however was dark and tragic. I loved exploring the darker aspects of human nature. The pain, the hurt, the emotional messiness that encompasses life. I don’t think she grasped the depth of this poem. Only four lines, it nonetheless speaks volumes 🙂
If life is death,
And death is hell,
And hell is life,
Who can tell?
In gratitude,
Marissa xo