Could you remind me of the time?
Of when you did walk.
A dollar was the same as a dime.
...................................
The bells in the city chime.
All knew dinner was served.
A dollar was the same as a dime.
.................................
Could you remind me of the time?
Skating at the rink.
Was a pleasure of a kind,
..................................
A dollar was the same as a dime.
General stores and candy bags.
Sang a song that always rhyme.
..................................
Could you remind me of the time?
Soda shops were cool.
The hills were awesome to climb.
..................................
A dollar was the same as a dime.
It seemed like a day or two.
I made cookies for you.
Could you remind me of the time?
About the Creator
Cathy Deslippe
Catherine Deslippe
At the age of 7, I became an author. I am an international writer with many authors; all royalties went to cancer patients without insurance. I used to write to cope, but now I write to bring others hope.
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Six Feet Under
Buried alive. What a horrible way to go. Yazz lay there, in her own thoughts. What else could she do? She was hungry, thirsty, tired, mentally, and physically exhausted, and more than anything, she was bored. She hoped she would die of boredom before anything else, anything else would've been more painful. Like many people had, she and her friends had talked about what they reckon the worst ways to die were, it was a morbid subject, but it came up every now and again. Yazz had always been one to argue her point on drowning, others had mentioned burning alive, slowly and painfully bleeding to death, hung drawn and quartered, and being starved to death. It was strange that none of them had considered being buried alive, it had never come up. But now, she was thinking back to those conversations her and her friends had had, how could they have not thought about it? It took a lot longer than the others, you were completely confined, you couldn't move or do anything, you just had to wait, until your body was physically unable to support a life system anymore, which could take up to four days. Four! By far the longest out of all of them. She recounted some of these conversations just to try and pass the time, anything to pass the time. It was difficult to know how much time had passed since she had been underground, it was difficult to know anything. There were many things that Yazz didn't know, she didn't know where she was, she didn't know how she'd got into the coffin, she'd just woken up there. Yazz also didn't know what time it was, or even what day it was, she guessed at Tuesday, it was Sunday evening when she'd been buried alive, intentionally, and although it had felt like weeks had passed, she was still alive, which means she hadn't died from dehydration, and therefore it couldn't have been more than four days.
By Liam Storm2 days ago in Fiction
Comments (3)
So nostalgic and lovely!
Cathy, when I read this the first thing in my mind was "ergh, inflation" haha. Beautiful poem, very nostalgic.
Ah this was so nostalgic! Loved your poem!