When I was Young in Space

January 29, 2012
By Chesternut BRONZE, Wwwww, Illinois
Chesternut BRONZE, Wwwww, Illinois
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

Favorite Quote:
"Think Different." -Steve Jobs


When I was young in space,
I was abducted by aliens.
And I lived on a spaceship.
I never knew my real parents.

When I was young in space,
I played with my brother who had three eyes.
I wanted three eyes like everyone else.
So I glued a googly eye on my forehead to look just like him.

When I was young in space,
My mom made us vacuum- packed sandwiches.
They were flat just like paper
Which I loved to eat as a refreshment afterwards.

When I was young in space,
My friends and I’d play among the stars
We’d have to wear our space suits before, though,
Or mom would make us stay inside and watch.

When I was young in space,
My dad worked as an inventor.
He would bring home crunchy, bittersweet rocks for us to eat for dinner.

When I was young in space
I’d go to space school.
We’d learn how to cause supernovas
And how to prevent being sucked into a black hole.

When I was young in space,
I was the only human on the ship
And the only living thing that had hair.
Sometimes Grandma would knit it into an instant hat for the cold years.

When I was young in space,
There was no gravity to hold me down.
We’d just be drifting lazily from class to class,
And learning to do air stunts in P.E.

When I was young in space,
We’d all venture out into the “Great Unknown.”
We had to make sure we didn’t get lost, though,
Or we might get sucked into the endless, vacuum darkness of the cosmos.

When I was young in space,
My dad would take us to work sometimes.
We’d feel the gooey, sticky new substances he made,
And sometimes use it for paint.


When I was young in space,
I’d savor the sweet, delicious taste of my mom’s mineral casserole.
Every bite of it created an explosion of flavors among my taste buds,
And would always leave me craving for more.

When I was young in space,
Life was very simple.
It were the little things in life, like riding meteors into the starry, endless night,
That never made me wonder who I really am.

When I was young in space,
I didn’t want to be on a planet, a star, or an asteroid.
Because, well, I was on Spaceship XA1094
And I wouldn’t change that for the universe.

The author's comments:
One day in school, my english teacher read us this kids' book called When I was Young in the Mountains, by Cynthia Rylant. It was actually a poem in the form of a picture book and it was about her life in the mountains or something. Of course, there was a catch. After all, you never actually READ something in English- it has to be wrecked by being turned into an assignment. I wasn't that crazy about that poem, and when she assigned us to write a poem like that about OUR childhood, I was blanked out. "When I was young in Bartlett" sounded like the lamest thing ever, and what could I write about that? So I changed up the title, wrote some sad excuse of a poem, and turned it in. Of course I got a bad grade,and it made me really upset, even though I knew my poem was just a piece of junk. So I crumpled it up, chucked it across the room in a fit of rage, and grabbed my laptop. Before I knew it, I had a new, original, and totally wrong version of "When i was Young in the Mountains."
Fast forward... well, I have to turn in a free choice for another assignment, and being the slacker and procrastinator I am, I had no idea what to write. So i wrote out a long, 11-page story that took forever to edit. The night before it was due, I went back on the computer and reread it, and decided to dump it. Yeah, responsible of me. But that spontaneous excision lead me to browse my computer for anything else i had. And destiny took me to the poem I wrote a few months ago.
I knew it was the one I'd submit. I hadn't gotten very good grades on my essays, and I badly needed a saving grace.
But it was angry, and in the beginning, i needed to badly edit the thing. I spent two hours clearing out all the language and adding and deleting things before it was finally ready to turn it.
I knew i was taking a pretty big risk, because I was doing a parody of an assignment, and if my teacher didn't like that, she could fail me badly.
Now fast forward again (sorry for all the time distortion)... to the day we get back our grades. I can hear my teacher complementing everyone's writing. "...incredible emotions..." "...sent chills down my spine..." I froze in the middle of my work.
My name was called and i grabbed my pencil. I don't know why, actually. My teacher looked at me for a while, and i thought she'd tell me I'd have to rewrite it, or worse... that I'd failed.
"You should submit this," she told me. Sarcasm, sarcasm. But then, I realized she was serious. So... I have no good ending for this back- story, so I'll just say, that's how this poem got here, and that's why you're reading it.

I didn't forget the special thanks, of course. I have to thank a bunch of people.
Thanks to my English teacher, for giving me the wholehearted suggestion to submit this thing.
Thanks to my family and friends.

Oh, yeah,and thanks for lending me your poem, Cynthia Rylant. I have to give you credit.
Thanks to my English teacher, I

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