Yup. I write poetry. It's what I do.
Well, not really. See, this was written over two years ago as an English assignment, and subsequently submitted as part of another assignment to my school's student anthology, in the hopes that it might be published.
And it was. For a whole year, my poem was part of a book that was required reading for many English classes in my school. I wonder if any papers were written about it?
The reason I submit this now is, not only because I want SOMETHING on this page, but because it is the 2-year anniversary of my grandfather's death, and I feel like celebrating his life somehow. A writer himself, he is one of my major inspirations, and I have his degree proudly displayed whenever I need a pick-me-up. And although he was alive when I wrote this... when it got published, it was introduced in the book as a poem about "the memories of a long gone grandfather."
I don't know if the editors of the book were just being very symbolic, or if they did not realize that the title of the poem is not a joke and it really IS about Einstein, but I don't really care. I dedicate this one to you, gramps.