ACCT115

I completed my first two years of undergrad at Drexel University in Philadelphia. Before I withdrew from my program and moved home to Virginia, I was at my lowest. The very air of the city seemed to choke me in its bedlam of noise and city bus fumes. It was even worse when the weather was hot. The glass buildings reflected the sun onto the street, frying passers-by on the scorched pavement.

In this eight-line poem, I recall a specific walk from my apartment to an accounting class. With Depression, all tasks are ordeals, but there was something specifically terrible about walking to class on those sidewalks that melted the treads on your soles and the thoughts within your mind.

In Philadelphia, it was so easy to become lost. I recall how overzealous panhandlers and odorous sewer grate steam all became a blur of jumping stimuli, all begging for a sliver of attention. Leaving my apartment became terrifying, as I was afraid of the sights, sounds, and smells that attacked me as I walked down the street.

Again, this is where I started– afraid and too inside my own head to consider what I really needed. I needed nature. I needed quiet. I needed change. I needed to move forward.