Kat’s Corner is a poetry segment that is open to student submission. If you would like your piece potentially published, email the culture editor at firstname.lastname@example.org. This following piece is from William Bernard, sophomore in mass communications.
I grew up on the river bed, a Midwest town quite plain,
In the summers, I’d stay out far past my bedtime, to my parents I’d need to explain,
There was a dreaded place, with a harrowing home, just right down West & Main,
A dreaded woman, our parents told us never go near, Agatha from down the lane,
It was said that she lost James in ’62, and nightly calls out to him in vain,
Rumor had it she had cut him up and the mercury made her wits rather insane,
She often lured in little children, with toys and sweets of sugarcane,
The priest knew of the evils of her home and could not bear to exercise or ordain,
Lil Johnny had been gone for a month, no one has seen his body or where it’s lain,
My ball flew into her yard, I see her there lurking above, shall I go or shall I remain?
The little knowledge I have has fleeting thoughts of what I might have became,
Wrestling with her in the chair, the needle strikes inwards, cold seeps into my vein,
After seizing around on the floor, I awake to the surroundings of strung outs sprain,
I make my way to the door, remembering my sobriety and my promise to abstain,
I itch at the track marks, and try to find sanity through my struggle with the pain,
I squat from place to place, with red splintering eyeballs and a pounding brain,
A childhood was lost, when I turned to my 8-ball and tried to recreate it again.