Story of a Day
By: C. Burns
Originally written 1995

I remember writing this one sometime in 1995. I had gotten to school really early because I was running behind on my layouts in yearbook. As I waited for Mr. Searway (sp?) to arrive, I noticed how quiet the school was and was inspired. I did this entire poem in less than 15 minutes. If I also remember correctly, this was the same morning Christy introduced me to Erasure. Remember that Christy?

When you're somewhere and nobody's around,
There are no disruptive feet pounding the ground.
It is almost quiet with very little sound.
I'm sitting ona bench and nobody's around.

As the morning moves on, the noise increases.
All the peace and quiet is shattered to pieces.
Oh, I can't wait 'til the day ceases,
Because that is when all noise decreases.

I'm sitting on a bench and it's so loud.
It is lunchtime and there's a crowd.
Speaking their profanities and troubles so proud.
Oh, why does it have to be so loud?

Lunch is over and my head is pounding.
The quiet now is so astounding.
There is the noise of a whistle sounding
And across the field, runner are bounding.

I'm sitting on a bench and the day is done.
The setting of the sun has just begun.
In regards to noise, there is none.
Who would have thought that it would be gone?

It is dark and cold; night is here.
I'm sitting on the bench without fear.
Occasionally a noise I happen to hear.
The end of this poem is almost near.

I'm sitting on a bench and the sun just rose.
I have frostbite on my nose.
I can't even feel my toes,
But I decided to do this, that's what I chose.

I'm going home now; I'm tired and cold.
A story of a day has just been told.
I'll do this again when I get old.
Goodbye, see ya later, I'm tired and cold.

Copyright © 2002 Christopher Burns

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