Poetry: ‘She Didn’t Warn Me’
Abigail Ventimiglia
January 13, 2021
She didn’t warn me. She warned of coughing, but not of walking. She warned of a fever, And I believed her. Of losing smell or
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She didn’t warn me. She warned of coughing, but not of walking. She warned of a fever, And I believed her. Of losing smell or
the dimmed sun awakened me as if i was woken by a storm to see the complexity of the vivid oranges and the blues as
“An Ode to the Mailman” I’m excited to report, a new quarantine sport, the mailman and his transport. Wait until he or she comes around,
History will remember this horrific year Full of agony and pain Pearl like tears streaming down faces Yet, like Avoxes, we can’t complain. Does the
When I wear a mask, You may be surprised, To hear I’m like a spy in disguise. No longer petrified Of what they might see
They say all it takes to bake is a recipe, But when will I see the end product in front of me? Too long of
I have many enemies One happens to be the inner me I question the excellency of this Black energy True, I am great, as are
Apparently my dress code is a “distraction.“ From what?
To the daughter of 2020. On the Autumnal Equinox, this poem came to me out of nowhere. Five days later, the person I wrote it
In 2020, deadly forest fires have been happening throughout the globe. As can be seen, the primary cause of forest fires is human activities.
“Dear Hidden Girl” is a video series dedicated to anyone who identifies as a teen girl, a collection of “letters” that we will be opening
“But at that very moment, I couldn’t look at 2020 as a curse anymore, but instead, an opportunity to find the purpose of life.”