In Time

On the fifteenth day

Of April,

Of the eighteenth year,

Lay my motivation

To rub dry tears from my eyes

And have a great day.

The time frame of school

Lets my smile bloom--

surrounded with motion

And chatter--

I’m safe.

And the few voices there

that

collect my words,

As if they were butterflies

And not eels,

Make me feel worth something;

More than what

I was taught.

And I grew bitter

And with my return home,

It shut tightly--My liveliness--

With the key

In her hands.

It was my seventeenth

and

I remembered every birthday

Wishing a plan,

An escape,

Salvation,

But I knew flames only melted the wax

And shined a bit of light

On the days that flew by.

It burned though,

And each time

first degree burns

would turn more red

And red,

Until my brain felt scarlet

With tides of de-motivation,

depression,

Dejection.

I made a wish.

The black and blue eyes

I would no longer have to hide

When the day I can roam

transpires.

It's a wish and a dream,

Very reachable,

So close,

My tastebuds reach.

When I see the sun rise

With sleep cornering my eyes

In beautiful gradient skies,

I am amazed each morning,

That I'm here

And that everyday

I will try

So by the eighteenth year

I can live

A most yearned

Life

And no longer

Need to hide

The grin that

Tells no lie,

to the abyss

of my mind.

 

And the days following

Will be equipped with

Knowing everything

Will be okay,

And a smile

so motivational,

It can see that grand day.

This poem is about: 
Me

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