KD's notes: okay, this is a poem that I wrote at school; I was told by many
that it was both sad and made people think, so it could be good right? Read
it and find out

The Stories the Spirits Told

So where the emotions that he felt
Cold, lifeless, but mostly sad
Quite similar to the air that whispered through the trees, they almost
spoke to him
He went by the name Mathias
Such an odd name they'd say,
They being the accusing eyes as he walked down the street
So bleak it was that even the rats were offended
He walked alone, his hands over his ears to block out the cries of those
that hated him
When it reality no one knew who he was, in fact not even a person walked
the streets
In blind haste he ran, to where he did not know, but any place to feel safe
Safe from life, from voices, from death, anything

Soon gates of jagged and cold steel came into view, as though enticing him
And they did, as he ran into the dead sanctuary, his footfalls causing the
leaves to crunch
He stopped to stare at the statues lined in a row, covered with moss and
old flowers
Relaxed he became as he slowed his pace through the empty churchyard
Oh how new voices spoke to him
Telling stories to bold and others that would never be told
Ones of purgatory and others in hell
Stories meant to scare, but Mathias was intrigued by it all
Stories of living paintings hung in a hall
Ones about unseen handprints on the wall

Mathias stayed to hear the rest of what the specters told
Tale after tale
Night to day and back again he listened in the cold
Until he himself began to regale to the spirits stories of life
Even if the grave he rested by was his own
He died enthralled in the stories the spirits told

So, how was it? Good? Bad? Please review and tell me what you think