In this room I am suffocating
the walls, the desks, the floor, the boards
are all a varying shade of cream Continue reading
Here she comes in her stroller,
dressed in white and no recognition of the corruption that surrounds her
Her parents cross their fingers and hope that she is destined for good things.
Here she comes on her bike,
dressed in pedal pusher jeans that everyone else seems to be wearing these days
No acknowledgement of the hardships that come with the joys in life
Her friends roll their eyes and then go out and buy an identical pair.
Here she comes in the passenger seat,
living her life through someone else
When they succeed, she is happy.
When they fail, all seems wrong.
But she picks up and finds someone else to follow.
Here she comes on crutches that dig in,
having found someone that pushed her off her chair.
The scars – they will never fade entirely
a friendly reminder of the past
of the reality of life
of the hardships that come with the joy.
There she goes in her limo,
she’s out the door,
into the sun.
She’ll never find another permanent shadow in which to find comfort
Her parents cross their fingers and hope that she is destined for greatness.
— a part of the Weekly Writing Challenge