TEEN ANGST powers, activate--form of, crappy love poetry!

So, today is a special day for you guys. I'm getting ready to let you into a dark, scary place. A place where boys fear to tread, where children run off crying to their parents, where animals whimper and kick their legs in their sleep.

That's right--I'm going to show you guys some of the worst love poetry ever written in the history of mankind.

My own.

I started keeping poetry journals in December 1991, chronicling the ups and downs of my relationships. Every once in a while, I bust those bad boys out and reread them. It shows me how far I've grown as a writer thoughout the years. It also gives me an enchanting mix of amusement and mortification.

Well, let's do some soul-baring, shall we? I'll share a few of the ones I thought were most horrifically sappy or cheesetacular. FYI, I bear no responsibility for any cavities or diabetic comas induced by these works.

Feb 10, 1992 (sophomore year):

I thought of you today,
And the stars shone
brighter, and mother nature
was content.

I thought of you today,
And all I could see, for
one beautiful moment, were
your eyes; and I drowned in
their rich color.

I thought of you today,
And your smile touched a
depth in my soul I didn't
know I possessed; and I felt
like an innocent child who
had looked upon the face of
the sunshine for the first
time.

I thought of you today,
And I simply wept with
joy that you were mine.

I thought of you today,
And I painted a picture,
and every color flew off the
page into your eyes; and
I walked through a park in
the woods, and smiled.

I thought of you today.

Oh dear God, that one was so much worse than I remember. It physically hurt to type that one into here--you guys just have no idea. Aaaaaanyway, let's move on, shall we? Here's a short gem:

October 10, 1992 (junior year):

Is it real this time?
Can things work out for me?
Or is it another star-crossed love?
Funny, I chose the word "love."
Do I mean it?
Does he think it?
Do we feel it?

Oh, teen-angst Rhonda...what a precious little woman you were! So many questions, all unanswered! Here's one more little treat for you guys, one that is particularly reflective:

February 7, 1994 (senior year):

A lone tear slid down my cheek
As I remembered.
The bite of the cold air.
Bare trees with their thick arms spreading over the sky like a blanket.
Leaves crunching underfoot.
You and me,
Sitting side by side on the rock,
Not saying a word.
Not needing to.
The feelings were tangible.
Our cheeks were flushed from the steep climb.
The only sound was our breathing,
And the wind.
When we looked at each other, time
Stopped,
Frozen in spendor.
That day is in me,
Forever.
The mood of the moment,
The understanding,
And you.

Ah, yes. Teen love. Regardless of how much I enjoy poking fun at myself, I actually really dig the fact that I kept all of my poems, which number in the hundreds by now and have chronicled every relationship I have been in since then. It's my diary, my life charted out in snippets of phrases and imagery. Cliched? For sure. But sincere. Heartfelt. Earnest.

And I wouldn't have it any other way.

So were/are you a poet? Do you keep some form of a diary?