A poem about nothing

I’m not sure why but I still keep files with practically every creative writing assignment, essay, and project I ever did since the beginning of high school.  I don’t think I’ve ever looked at them since.  But after all the hours of work I put into them, it seemed like a shame to just throw them away.

In my OAC year I took a creative writing class, and I remember my friends and I challenging each other as to who could write the most over-the-top, melodramatic “phoney-deep” poem that appeared to be making some kind of grand statement about life, but was actually meaningless.  That’s how most poetry we were forced to read seemed to us then.

So here’s one I wrote in Feb, 1990, called simply “Thoughts.”   Re-reading it now some 20+ years on, it isn’t all that terrible, actually.  But that wasn’t from a lack of trying.

Thoughts (a poem, by Steve Didunyk)

My mind is but a jumbled wreck
Of dreams and ideologies,
I try, but I will never find
Life’s static yet elusive truths.
And we, the educated, borrow
All that countless lives have spent
To find; yet in the end
True joy is only found in ignorance.
But still our ageless struggle bends
On through clouded halls and years
With hopes to see with different eyes
A world rebuilt in mankind’s image
Yet words are but a man’s invention –
Feeling but a mortal folly,
Time to stop and look around
Means time enough for melancholy
We all have but a single chance
To seize the day and learn to dance
Before the reaper strikes us down
And wipes out the vanity of time.

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