Poem: Now I know my ABC's

A Herculean task, getting out of bed, 

Alas, for nine months I have been dead, 

Against my will, I let the light stream in, 

Adoring the last spots of darkness, sips of gin, 

Amending the last thing I said, 

Ah, I am actually not rotten bread, 

Aeroplanes buzzing, flying, landing, 

Acutely, the seams of reality crashing, 

Aware of the changes I have caused, 

Around and about, I have collided and paused, 

Adorned by everything and  everyone, 

All along it was granted, wanting for none, 

Amazed by things shiny and new, 

Acting on impulsivity and naivete that have been due, 

Arranged for a “trip” halfway round the globe, 

Aghast at the turn in the winds and the skies, 

Appalled by the lack of flavours and the spice, 

Accusing all that was around me because it wasn’t like home, 

Agitated that independence crept up on me as a garden gnome, 

As much as the physical changes have me on my scraping knees, 

All the voices in my heart and head make me flap and faff like geese, 

Adventure and adrenaline reigned for a short time, 

Anguish and agony now take the wheel, having me sweat blood and grime, 

Alice in Wonderland was a dream and a fairy tale, 

Agatha in Salem is the reality in that I am frail and fail

Thanks and regards,

Written by, Nova Ricci