Writing Prompt

When time flys,

It soars,

Taking to the air like greedy birds of prey.

Gone are childhood playthings,

Plastic relics of imagination and glee,

Long grown cold from disuse.

Dreams and aspirations are too left behind,

Crammed into metal cabinets,

And slipped into borrowed books.

How tolerable would time be,

If growing old didn’t mean losing the very things,

That made us feel alive....

...

As the teacher continued with the lesson, I am left behind in my memories. When such an important person disappears from your life, this feeling of being stuck in memories permeates through everything you do. Mama died a week ago, and since then I have found myself thinking of little else but her. As the world moves around me, my mind wanders and conversations become a dull drone in the background...

Mind broken against the wall

Only the brave will face the fall

Sad faces wander past

Ones hoping it will be her last

Schools over soon

Her headphones blasting out a tune

Lockers swinging everywhere

Teachers pretending that they care

She finally gets home

Where she’s even more alone

A week later she took her life

Gave in to all her strife

The coffin looks so small

Only the brave survive the fal...

I don’t understand people. They always strive to discover what is different, yet when they find something new they are always afraid of it.

I’ve tried making friends but it’s proven to be very difficult lately, mostly due to my “habits” that I sometimes express at the wrong times but I assure you I don’t do them on purpose, I promise. You’re probably wondering where I’m going with this, well her...