Leaves Beneath Your Feet

Sometimes the harsh crunch

of leaves beneath your feet

can make you realize

just how fragile life is.

 

Something once full of life

and service to give

now falls from the top

and withers away to nothing.

Hoodie Time!

The crisp autumn breeze

reminded me of why I

love my warm hoodies.

The Peak

The problem with climbing a mountain

is that at the peak, you’re on top of the world,

but the bottom is still there,

it’s just a much further fall now.

It Must be the Changing Seasons

My nose is dripping.

My head is stuffed.

every muscle in my body aches.

It must be the changing seasons.

 

There’s frost on my windshield.

My sweater isn’t warm enough.

I’m getting leaves whipped in my face.

It must be the changing seasons.

 

I don’t want to leave my bed.

Everything seems hopeless.

Everything around me is dying or dead.

It must be the changing seasons

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Adore Something Dead

I wish I were a tree

During this time of year.

Trees of all sorts are praised

On all their bright colors.

There are reds and bright pinks,

Oranges, yellows, and brown.

Once a year, people stare.

People stop just to gawk.

And adore something dead.

I don’t understand how

People enjoy the sight

Of millions of dead leaves.

It is like once a year,

Death is seen as beauty,

but only towards trees.

If that thought were to keep

its meaning with humans,

Then I would be seen as

Most beautiful of all

For I am dead inside.

But we don’t celebrate

My lack of emotion,

Or anyone’s infact.

We lock them up in rooms

And say they’re the problem.

Are we? Are we really?

 

 

Memory #3

* I’m sharing memories I have. Memories are like personal stories. My mind is thus full of stories I want to get out before they are lost forever. Some are happy, some funny, some sad, but none should be forgotten. Plus they will hopefully provide ore insight to my poetry maybe even inspire more.*

 

Trust issues. Everybody has them to some degree. I can remember the first time I had my trust broken and it taught me a very important life lesson that still rings true: nothing lasts forever.

I was probably about 5 years old and I loved to do nothing more than ride my purple bicycle back and forth between my neighbor’s driveways. it would quite literally keep me busy for hours. I was proud to parade my bike around because I loved that thing. It was typical of a little girl bike. It was purple with white handle bars with the streamers coming out of them. It had a basket and a horn on the front ( both covered in flowers). I had a pink princess helmet. The wheels were white ( and that does include my training wheels)

Most weekends went the same. I would wake up, eat breakfast and tell my mom that I want to go ride my bike. Sometimes she would follow right behind me, sometimes she watched from the window as I would go back and forth until I got tired. I was on top of the world zipping back and forth, using my imagination (then everything changed when the fire nation attacked).

Then one weekend, just like normal, I told my mom I was going outside and she had decided not to follow me. So I go in the garage, get my bike and put my helmet on. Im excited as I start down my driveway. Only one issue: I only made it 5 feet before I fell over and started crying. I had no idea what had happened just that it had never happened before. Turns out my parents decided the night before that I didn’t need training wheels anymore so they just took them off without telling me ( rude). There was no warning. And what’s worse? Nobody followed me out side like ” but wait!” It was ” let’s see if she will fall on her face or not” (seems like a bad parenting technique if you ask me).

That is probably the most clear reason as to why I’m not very trusting of people. At a very young age, I was given a reason not to. Nothing truly lasts forever and not everything is in your control. It’s hard to tell when others are plotting against you. Even as an adult, I still find other people trying to decide what’s best for me, even when it isn’t wanted.

This story does have a happy ending though ( say what?). Yea. Eventually my mom heard my crying from the driveway and came outside. At that point I didn’t want to ride my bike anymore and was very mad at my parents ( I actually told them they had to buy me a new bike because they broke mine or at least to fix it). After a few days, I was forced onto the bike and did learn to ride it. Now it’s like my main means of transportation to get to work, where I make money and live happily ever after (just kidding. I’m in college. I have no money)