Can I Love Someone Older?
Life Is...
It had been, yesterday that I last saw Brendan, and it was this morning, before I went to school that my father told me, I wasn’t allowed to see him again. It really hurt to hear it, and then hearing it from my mother, that I wasn’t allowed to talk to him anymore, was like getting stabbed in the heart, it really hurt. Just hearing everything they would do if Brendan was near me. I felt really bad, and I was tempted, to just never think about him again, but, I know it won’t work...I love him too much.
I was stuck in my room. My parents were out, and I had nothing but my MP, and my writing pad. I placed my headphones in and selected ‘Meteor shower’ by Owl City, and waited for it to play, while I picked up my pencil and waited for my brain to work, it’s magic.
My pencil was soon moving across the paper, as I let my ideas and emotions fly across the page. I wasn’t thinking as I wrote I just let it all pour out. Feeling the emotions and words create, themselves on the blank, white page, to turn it black, and full of words. My hand soon came to a stop, and I looked at the no longer blank page. There were multiple scribbles and mistakes, but the rest was readable. I placed my pencil down, and started to read what I had written.
Life is...
...A dream...
An uncontrollable dream, that seems to end as the sun rises
As daylight arrives, and the night disappears
The dream of life, will seem to exist
Life is...
...A mystery...
An unbelievable treasure, that doesn’t want to be found,
As the clues unfold, and the mist clears
The mystery of life, has been caught
Life is...
...A competition...
An unjudged challenge, which has no end or prize
As the game gets harder, and the players slowly give
The competition of life, has been won
Life is...
...A risk...
An unforsaken compromise, which is always the same
As the day grows old, and the night unfolds
The risk of life, has yet to begun
I read it again and again, and realized that no matter how many times I read it, or tried to trick myself into thinking someone else wrote it, I failed. The hand writing was my own. I couldn’t believe what I had written, it made no sense, yet it made perfect sense. I pulled my ear pieces out, and walked to my bed.
I fell onto it, my back hitting the mistress, and bouncing slightly. I closed my eyes, and I started to dream.
I was stuck in my room. My parents were out, and I had nothing but my MP, and my writing pad. I placed my headphones in and selected ‘Meteor shower’ by Owl City, and waited for it to play, while I picked up my pencil and waited for my brain to work, it’s magic.
My pencil was soon moving across the paper, as I let my ideas and emotions fly across the page. I wasn’t thinking as I wrote I just let it all pour out. Feeling the emotions and words create, themselves on the blank, white page, to turn it black, and full of words. My hand soon came to a stop, and I looked at the no longer blank page. There were multiple scribbles and mistakes, but the rest was readable. I placed my pencil down, and started to read what I had written.
Life is...
...A dream...
An uncontrollable dream, that seems to end as the sun rises
As daylight arrives, and the night disappears
The dream of life, will seem to exist
Life is...
...A mystery...
An unbelievable treasure, that doesn’t want to be found,
As the clues unfold, and the mist clears
The mystery of life, has been caught
Life is...
...A competition...
An unjudged challenge, which has no end or prize
As the game gets harder, and the players slowly give
The competition of life, has been won
Life is...
...A risk...
An unforsaken compromise, which is always the same
As the day grows old, and the night unfolds
The risk of life, has yet to begun
I read it again and again, and realized that no matter how many times I read it, or tried to trick myself into thinking someone else wrote it, I failed. The hand writing was my own. I couldn’t believe what I had written, it made no sense, yet it made perfect sense. I pulled my ear pieces out, and walked to my bed.
I fell onto it, my back hitting the mistress, and bouncing slightly. I closed my eyes, and I started to dream.
♠ ♠ ♠
the poem that Sarah has written is one of my ownplease comment
and Enjoy ^.^