All Nonfiction
- Bullying
- Books
- Academic
- Author Interviews
- Celebrity interviews
- College Articles
- College Essays
- Educator of the Year
- Heroes
- Interviews
- Memoir
- Personal Experience
- Sports
- Travel & Culture
All Opinions
- Bullying
- Current Events / Politics
- Discrimination
- Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking
- Entertainment / Celebrities
- Environment
- Love / Relationships
- Movies / Music / TV
- Pop Culture / Trends
- School / College
- Social Issues / Civics
- Spirituality / Religion
- Sports / Hobbies
All Hot Topics
- Bullying
- Community Service
- Environment
- Health
- Letters to the Editor
- Pride & Prejudice
- What Matters
- Back
Summer Guide
- Program Links
- Program Reviews
- Back
College Guide
- College Links
- College Reviews
- College Essays
- College Articles
- Back
i hate this part
and the flowers mark the tree stuck
the white gravestones all exactly
the same
i remember i told you i loved cemeteries
the peacefulness made me feel like i was all alone
even though a thousand lay neatly in rows six feet under me.
sometimes,
when i couldn't help myself
i looked at the headstones
read the names pictured the faces counted the years
some lives so short I wondered again why God
takes children
makes me question if he really
is so incredible
eyes full of morning sun light
heart full of regret
why is the breeze so cold?
and why doesn’t it rain anymore?
you’d say it was because
there were too many tears
i’d ask whose crying
it’ll rain once we’re happy again
and the water will fall from the sky instead of my eyes
then i’ll feel the warmth, the budding heat
deep inside me like a building
flame, flickering…
maybe…
but that was before
you never were a good driver
except this wasn’t your fault
when the sun was creeping down the tree line
like paint dribbling down a wall
blue and red lights flashing
the clouds drift in. A purple-black bruise above your cheek; the night sky without stars
i hate this part
when you don’t open your eyes…
your bottle-green eyes…
and i hate how you have the same white headstone
as everybody else
you were always so special to me
every day I put the daisies-your favorite- under the tree you hit. The bark is still ravaged...
after you crossed three lanes and flipped three times
three times the charm you always said
i’m not laughing
it still doesn’t rain
and the days grow colder
my eyes are full of morning sunlight
my chest as hollow as if you took
my beating heart with you
Similar Articles
JOIN THE DISCUSSION
This article has 2 comments.
54 articles 2 photos 69 comments