a type of poem i had to write for class..
This is the Future
Gasping for air to fill my lungs once again like a balloon is filled with helium.
Some days it is as though, I myself, am but a balloon.
Yes, I am a balloon and my own hand is holding the string that’s keeping me back. I let go, freeing myself. You’ll see me floating towards the bright sky. As you run to try and catch me, you’ll smell the daisies that your shoes are trampling. Please keep the taste of fear and sadness to yourself, for expressing them will only make this harder. I know you don’t want me to leave, I can see it in your eyes, but I need to do this for me. As I continue to drift out of sight, I can hear our silent sobs synchronizing and it kills me inside.
Realization; that word lingers in my mind like the scent of onions burns your eyes.
Thinking back to that last year in high school, one memory pierced my thoughts. Sitting in The Hardback coffee shop with my best friend Jewell Moss; talking, laughing, crying, and wondering what would happen once we were separated by life.
I can sense deep down that you do desire for me to leave. Leaving would mean going out to find myself and make my own mistakes.
The emptiness of my once cluttered bedroom leaves me feeling nostalgic.
Senior year is a big deal. It is filled with many lasts which in turn lead to a world of new. Each one of us hopes to pwn our lives.
All the talk of graduating and college makes our brains go into overload.
In the words of my hick family from Oklahoma, right now my life feels catawampus.
The calming aroma of peace and relaxation is an aide to relieve stress.
Even though the future looks exciting, it is as stressful as going to Disney World.
To escape reality I morphed back into balloon form and floated up just beyond the puffy clouds.
Down below my friends will say, “Look, there goes Gabby, she always went after what she wanted.”
In a few years from now all the hard work will pay off and dreams will be fulfilled.
The stubborn sun is calling my name.
Can’t let them keep my string, I must be detached in order to fulfill my dreams.
O tal vez tan cierto como que manana vendra
Other balloons soon join me, each of us talking about what will become of our lives.
The knot was untied, the string slowly slipped off my childish wrist; now I’m heading towards the rest of my life.
