A poem from highschool - circa 1995
Rip Van Ouch
It Was Dark;
The Pavement Was Darker.
The Concrete Stung,
As My Face Brushed Against its
Cold Heartless Surface.
It Stunk
“Ouch” I Said.
“That Hurt” I Replied.
I Skated Home Swiftly,
And My Face Erupted with
Bloody Bits of Gunk.
It Stunk More.