Aren't I a Genius?

Forgo the grammar issue for a moment, dear Reader. Yes, my genius self has discovered a new way through which to obtain a concussion. No, I didn't actually get a concussion when I did it, just a bit of a head-smack. But it is possible, and I'm thoroughly convinced of it, to actually crack one's head open performing the following stunt.

You're probably thinking, "Kayla, your head already is cracked," and I won't deny the statement. But my most recent episode unfolded in the following manner:

I've always liked to go down stairs in a unique way. Sort of bound down them with a dotted-sixteenth rythm, and then skip the last two steps, hanging onto the railing and sort of sliding epically into the laundry room. Well, this time, everything went absolutely normal until the last bit. I was wearing wool socks, you see, and they slide gloriously well on a hardwood floor. They slid a little bit too well on the concrete when I made my triumphant leap off the steps, and, well, you can imagine the rest. Because I was still holding onto the rail, I didn't hit very hard at all. But I spent a few moments thinking of how much worse it could have been.

Will I learn from my crash, and change the method in which I traverse the steps? Not a chance. I will, however, not be so cocky when flinging myself off of them.

Oh, and the real reason for this blog post is actually my newest poem. Enjoy:

Journey

Midway through the tread of time
I stepped onto the road
With eyes cast down to mind the ruts
Precariously forward strode

Though scanned with mortal perception
Some pit would catch a hold
My cloak, though black and heavy
Did not fend off the bitter cold

A little further onward
And did my eyes perceive
A strange and stately figure
Hastening to meet me

We had but spoken little
When he suddenly took hold
And changed my blackened garment
For a dripping crimson robe

From that moment forward
Though still toiling up the road
His hand anchored when I stumbled
His presence made me bold

When at length, and weary-worn
I came to the shore of the sea
I left the sands of Time behind
And turned toward Eternity

I could not see the distant shore
My feet no longer felt the ground
I kicked my tattered shoes off
And He pulled me, safe and sound

And carried me up the opposite shore
And I, with awestruck delight
Looked down upon my garment
To see it gleam the purest white.