Dabbling in Poetry

I used to write poetry when I was a kid, although I had no idea of any rules or rhythm. I am thinking about getting back into it again. Below is a poem I wrote years ago in my first year of community college. I always remembered it because it’s about what might happen right after you die. I had to write a sonnet in iambic pentameter and that’s what I came up with. I have no idea if it’s any good or not, but I’m definitely interested in learning a lot more about poetry. It seems very simple to me many years later, but I’m curious to see what I could come up with now.

After

My name was Nancy when I woke today
But now I am a vapor in the air
When I got on the train I was okay
Now blackened fragments scatter everywhere

I’m floating, watching high above the mess
Somebody pulls a cloth over my form
A preacher kneels, and cries, and starts to bless
I suddenly feel cold, but very warm.

The mountains beckon me, but with a wish
I’m roaming through them, married to the sky.
The moon hangs gold, like butter on my dish.
The things I always wondered, I know why.

When I got on the train, I was okay.
But now I am complete in every way.

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