The Bell is Made

Once being born, ready to sing
Stayed in its home
Sweet London Whitechapel Foundry
Lived in 1752
Brought to Philadelphia to be praised
On a warm August day
It was said, sweet bell rang out
Singing hello to a new world
To long did it sing
At once its voice cracked
Leaving it useless

It died
Barely One years old it did,

Now here's a surprise
It woke to see through different eyes
Yet it knew it was the same inside
It sang again, quietly though
Afraid it might crack
It's voice low and husky made everyone shake their heads
Too low, they said, too deep
1753, they melted it down
Once again drowned in a alluring sleep

As it awoke, it heard
Too bad, it cracked
Too bad, too much copper
As it came fully aware
Everyone had their eyes on it
Now it knew what not to do
Not to croak
Not to sing too low
But let to it out and...
Aloud came a beautiful voice
Dong!
It echoed far and wide
Not to sharp yet not too low-
Dong!
-it was a perfect show

1753, Liberty Bell is my name and I plan to sing
'Till I am brought down


Reflection- As I was writing this poem, I tried to focus on keeping the poem stuck only on the times it cracked. It was not at all hard like I thought it would be, instead it was fairly easy. Pointing at the reason that really all I had to do is make the information interesting. (Not that it is, but I hope it was), I planted the poem as a personification poem. The reason I think that it could pass as a personification poem is because of the poem directing the thought of Liberty Bell being born and that it died and that the Bell was singing. At the end it even talks. I don't think that this is one of my best written poems, but I am not disappointed in it nor that proud of this poem.