www.whyville.net Jan 11, 2006 Weekly Issue



TlTANlC
Whyville Poet

Earthquake

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FRONT PAGE
CREATIVE WRITING
SCIENCE
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POLITICS
HEALTH
PANDEMIC

I stand here alone in the cold
I'm not gettin' young but I am gettin' old

I can't stay long; the day is almost done
Up goes the moon, down goes the sun

Alone on the bridge, staring blankly at the lake
All of a sudden, the ground begins to quake

The ground opens up, there sits a black hole
Waiting to swallow me up, like a cat and a mole

I fall into the opening, scared of the night
My soul is filled with anger, my heart is filled with fright

A wolf howls in the blackened night air
Breaking the silence but not my despair

I block my ears and still you weren't there
I began to think you no longer cared

But then, just then, you arrived. You came!
Then things would change and not be the same

You closed the hole, did what you could
Then I sat upon the bridge's wood

You saved me in time, but I can't figure how
Perhaps I'll know later, but I want to know now.

 

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