History

Each day in the class of History,

I would think up a catastrophe.

While learning the economy’s twists and bends,

I dreamt how the world would end.

My grades went down and my dreams up,

Like balancing a spoon on a cup.

In the world of my own,

I put the class on postpone.

As I went into my mind,

A place only I could find.

When days stay dark,

My fictional journey embarks.

While stars exploded

And planets imploded,

While seas overflowed

And the earth’s crust erode,

While Storms give chase

and we fly into the darkest part of space

a place where the lights don’t shine,

In this fictional world of mine.

 
This poem is about: 
Me

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