Teen Poetry #8 |
A Light |
theiamsadsong Junior Member
since 2008-03-03
Posts 17 |
When I finally get to go home A flash of relief washes over me and I leap from my seat The shrill cry of the battle raging inside my head Falters instantaneously with the piercing ring of the Phones alarm, As if a “cease-fire!” order for the war within me has been Commanded From the other end of the telephone. Their soft faces are crowding around me Slowly edging in… Speaking to me through a hushed, gentle whir Their thin rhythmic voices Like breathing through a straw. And the next thing I know I’m staring straight into Mrs. Wiggins gentle pout of compassion Communicating to me with her small greenish eyes That I will be Alright And knowing, With the naïve certainty of a small loving child That she sincerely wants for me To be alright. Multiple tenuous voices Carry me over a silvery, satin cloud As I float towards the door. Caressing me with their gentle voices, Quieting the pounding in my head, Creating this eerily fuzzy picture, Simultaneously sensational to emerging from a swimming pool When your bloodshot eyes Are so filled to the brim with chlorine That you can barely see a thing And you realize that all The lights Around you are Outlined in an illusion Of thick white fuzz, And that people are so blindingly bright like that In a haze of beautiful white fuzz That they resemble angels. Much like baby Jesus in the manger at Christmas time… I wonder if the reason people are able to Shine, So surreally outlined within this same radiant white light Is because People are lights. Just walking, Breathing, Glowing Lights, Brightening earths individuals Day after day, With generous smiles And, Soft goodbyes that you say to someone unknown to you Who has a Vigorously biting migraine, Or simply by being ones savior, Say, A mother. I am beginning to feel very confused contemplating all this Through my own pounding, fuzzy head. “Bye, Monica,” “Bye, Monica.” “We hope you get well soon.” And they give me one final nudge Out the door, Where I float Down the hallway, And past the lockers, Into the cool welcoming lobby, To my mother, Who puts Her Warm, Loving, Arm Around my tired shoulders While I concentrate on trying not to smile Because it hurts, Because her glow Is the brightest Of them all. |
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SEA
Moderator
Member Seraphic
since 2000-01-18
Posts 22676with you |
good grief I am going to enjoy reading you.... |
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theiamsadsong Junior Member
since 2008-03-03
Posts 17 |
i hope so!!! please please please go over to the forum insights and read and comment on my poem titled "Soft Opera" and i have another one in dark poetry...i'd really appriciate more criticism! love ya, monica |
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