So, I needed a place where I could dump all of the Dead Poets Society/Anderperry poetry that I've been writing, and because like most writers I have a compulsive need to share my work, I figured the best place would be here. So, I hope at least someone out there will enjoy all of the fluff and angst that I'm going to drop off here as result of school being entirely too boring, and the teachers not stopping me because they think I'm being productive when I'm really not.
I'm gonna go ahead and mark this as complete, because each poem will be complete in itself, but I'll probably be posting new stuff for a while.
The bed next to him will always be empty.
.
He can stand on his desk and cause a fuss
Or take walks out to the old cave
and recite poetry 'till he's blue in the face
Scream it as it echoes off the stone walls.
.
He can turn in all his assignments on time
Or spend his nights crying awake
and his days dreaming of a better future
and behind closed eyelids will his best friend back into existence.
.
He can write line after line of poetry
Rip it all up and throw it away
Pace his room as the words won't come
Because all he can hear in his head is Shakespeare recited in that beloved voice
And kick at his trunk 'till his foot is blue because it never used to be the writing that was the problem.
.
He can write lines and lines and lines of poetry
and cry and cry
And stuff all of the sheets under his mattress because they're not going anywhere
Not getting read anymore because his voice burned out with that faithful plea for
"Oh Captain, my Captain!"
.
But the bed next to him will always be empty.