Legacy | Teen Ink


May 2, 2011
By Writergirl18 SILVER, North Tonawanda, New York
Writergirl18 SILVER, North Tonawanda, New York
6 articles 0 photos 3 comments

Favorite Quote:
"Don't need to see where I am going, just need to know where I've been." - Tow Mater, CARS

Resting in the sun,
Terrified away by a far away bell,
Droning in the cool morning air,
Its tolls tell of the time of day,
Men and boys gather around,
Leaning, leaning toward the alumni crowd,
Listening, searching for the legacy that they have left behind,
For these future graduates to pick up and carry on,
Change of volume,
Change of pace,
And change of tone creates emotion,
In a classroom,
Brown and grim,
Ripping out the introduction that
According to the teacher,
Is nonsense,
Because he believes that:
Poetry is something that you should think about its purpose on your own,
Not have someone lay out its purpose for you,
Those who desire this,
Are not true poets,
True poets are not artists, but free thinkers,
Thinkers who can come up with their own definition or idea of what the poem is implying,
Poetry and its purpose should drip from your tongue like honey,
Sweetly and with a little spice,
Warriors, fighting to keep the legacy of precious poets and their creations alive,
Running dangerously through the night,
Disappearing from the darkness and into a shadowy cave filled not only with wonders of what it held years past by former occupants,
But with the prospects of what is yet to come,
Muddling through the words that linger in the air, trying to find their purpose,
While the others—that were taken away in the hearts of those who used to sit there and absorb the words that shaped their very souls, turning them into living legacies even after their deaths,
That bell, that bell,
Ringing once again,
Tolling a warning,
A warning to return to the place where things are not as they might seem,
In the classroom dull and brown,
Stand on the desk,
Look around,
A reminder,
A word of advice,
To remember to look at things in a different way,
And not for what they are on the surface,
Look deep,
Look for the things unknown,
Ride, ride,
On two wheels, through iron gates and down a hill—
To freedom masked by a good reputation,
To hear that same legacy calling,
Calling from the lone dock in the middle of the lake,
Bagpipes: swimming on the surface of the lake,
Floating on the wisps of air,
Heading out toward unknown places,
To coil its legacy with another.

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