The Lighthouse
The lighthouse had stood
upon the hill for many years,
but recently, within a short week
it was abandoned,
its solitary shadow cast down unto the town
as though a great cloud loomed.
A game of truth or dare
introduces me.
A single yell of “dare”
sends me scurrying off.
Off to the lighthouse all on my own,
through the gloomy fields,
and muddy plains,
and through the parts of town
that our parents begged us to leave alone.
Try telling that to a girl who was desperate to fit in.
I took the stairs two at a time,
found myself panting as I reached the top.
It was shadowy and murky,
and a breeze fluttered through the broken window,
its bitterness embracing me like a lover.
Rats nibbled on the rotting wood,
their squeaks so quiet that
it sounded as though the structure was creaking.
Broken shards of glass littered the floor,
and the intricate metalwork within the lamp
had been shattered, wrecked, destroyed:
I felt my body tensing as I walked around the room,
careful not to tread on anything.
I gazed out of the vast window,
admiring the view,
if only the lighthouse’s interior
was as lovely as its surroundings,
as beautiful as the ocean that was spread out in front of me,
instead of the warped design of ugly.
Stepping around the vandalised lamp,
I saw a bird,
white as snow,
just sitting on the floor of the lighthouse,
its feathers ruffled,
its beak nipping affectionately at its feet.
I watched this pure bird,
as it, clumsily at first,
stumbled past the remnants of the lighthouse’s lamp,
towards the broken window,
and spread its wings so wide
that I was dazzled for a moment,
my eyes shutting of their own accord.
When I’d finally opened my eyes,
the bird had flown out of the lighthouse,
and was sailing through the air.
Alone.
[Incase yoo didn't get it, the lighthouse was supposed to represent the girl <lonely, desperate to fit in> and the bird was meant to be a glimmer of hope that would lead her into individuality <it flies away alone regardless of anything else>]
upon the hill for many years,
but recently, within a short week
it was abandoned,
its solitary shadow cast down unto the town
as though a great cloud loomed.
A game of truth or dare
introduces me.
A single yell of “dare”
sends me scurrying off.
Off to the lighthouse all on my own,
through the gloomy fields,
and muddy plains,
and through the parts of town
that our parents begged us to leave alone.
Try telling that to a girl who was desperate to fit in.
I took the stairs two at a time,
found myself panting as I reached the top.
It was shadowy and murky,
and a breeze fluttered through the broken window,
its bitterness embracing me like a lover.
Rats nibbled on the rotting wood,
their squeaks so quiet that
it sounded as though the structure was creaking.
Broken shards of glass littered the floor,
and the intricate metalwork within the lamp
had been shattered, wrecked, destroyed:
I felt my body tensing as I walked around the room,
careful not to tread on anything.
I gazed out of the vast window,
admiring the view,
if only the lighthouse’s interior
was as lovely as its surroundings,
as beautiful as the ocean that was spread out in front of me,
instead of the warped design of ugly.
Stepping around the vandalised lamp,
I saw a bird,
white as snow,
just sitting on the floor of the lighthouse,
its feathers ruffled,
its beak nipping affectionately at its feet.
I watched this pure bird,
as it, clumsily at first,
stumbled past the remnants of the lighthouse’s lamp,
towards the broken window,
and spread its wings so wide
that I was dazzled for a moment,
my eyes shutting of their own accord.
When I’d finally opened my eyes,
the bird had flown out of the lighthouse,
and was sailing through the air.
Alone.
[Incase yoo didn't get it, the lighthouse was supposed to represent the girl <lonely, desperate to fit in> and the bird was meant to be a glimmer of hope that would lead her into individuality <it flies away alone regardless of anything else>]