I walk into my room, <br />the door shuts behind me. <br />I am in my own world <br /> <br />I kick off my shoes, <br />-they lie in a geometric pattern <br />on the floor <br /> <br />I am 16 years old. <br />It is snowing, <br />it is dark, <br />and the god of December <br />has fallen across this land. <br /> <br />The snow swirls and swirls and swirls, <br />endlessly and forever in my inner darkness. <br /> <br />'God, I hope we don't have school tomorrow, ' I think to myself <br />I know all 16 year olds think this very thought, <br />but somehow it is different when I think it. <br />I am different, and alone- <br />Alone, and different <br /> <br />Sometimes I can't believe that I'm me. <br /> <br />Snow falls down around the museum in my mind- <br />I see a picture in my mind of the art museum at Bowdoin College, <br />as though there is a postcard in my mind <br /> <br />I feel as though I am the last person on earth, <br />even though my parents are in the next room <br /> <br />Everything is quiet. <br />Everything is snow. <br /> <br />There is a light on, beside my bed, <br />a solitary light in the world <br /> <br />I look out my window <br />The world is still quiet, <br />and the stars peak out from behind the clouds, <br />like a map in the night <br /> <br />There is an ocean in the sky, <br />and it is as though the gods <br />are illuminated in heaven<br /><br />Samuel Stuart Pennell<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-gods-were-illuminated/
