May/June 2026
typed in a regular, Times New Roman
12-point font. It stares at me
from the sheet of paper.
I feel it throb,
the letters rhythmically beat,
like gongs drumming
the arrival of armed troops
for war,
or a carcass
which was a living body two years ago.
It was told its lifespan, and May/June 2026
seemed so far away then.
My head hurts.
The hour ends and blue blood
stains the page.
I close the papers,
sticking the coffin into its stapled folds.
No one will remember where it is buried,
what happened in its lives save a few memories,
why it was abandoned on a Monday morning
behind a 12-point font.
Where it came from, where it went after...
who was robed in the white shrouds:
the test-taker or the paper?
-
Author:
PennedAI (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: May 1st, 2026 04:02
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 23
- Users favorite of this poem: sorenbarrett, Friendship, Hadeed musa, Allie561
Offline)
Comments3
So nicely metaphored (sic) this poem speaks in paper images of real atrocities blood in ink and the coolness of white paper where a folder is a coffin. So well conceived it must be a fave
Thank you soren barrett I appreciate your compliment and fave!
The idea was in fact conceived within an exam room😅
You are most welcome
Well written. Your poem reflects on the inevitable decline of something once vibrant (the paper, the test-taker) and contemplates the lack of remembrance and significance attributed to these experiences.
Thank you very much for the read and fave!
You're so welcome
Blue blood stains the page.
I am never looking at an exam the same way again..
😅😅
I am glad🤣 i take pride when my work changes the perspective of a person, even if it be ever so slightly. Than you for the fave!
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