Five I Was Only Five
Five, I was only five. My family and I had traveled to Northern Ireland so I decided to go exploring deep into the woods. The sun had just set and I wanted to feel the darkness of the forest to wrap me up like a blanket. Shivering, every part of my body was frozen by the brisk winds. The trees became larger every look, the animals became faster every breath, and my feet became faster every step. Running through the pines, my adrenaline lead me. I could not stop. Throwing rocks, hitting sticks in the ground, climbing trees, splashing through the streams, and running. The forest was my servant and I its queen. Endless, endless, endless, that’s what it felt like. But of course it was not. Something in there could destroy every speck of that forest in less than one step.
Suddenly, the wall of silence surrounding me was shattered by the horrifying sound of breaking twigs. If I looked, if I even nudged my head a little to the left, I feared I would see something that terrified me to my grave. Let it be a dream, just let it be a dream. All I wanted was to wake up in my warm bed under my protected blankets. But it was not dream, it was very real, and it was standing right next to me. 1825 days, 60 months, five, I was only five.
Pretty, nice right?
But there is one thing you will drive by everyday
One thing you will skip because you’re distracted by Pittsburgh marvelous attractions
On the yellow bridge,
By the fountain,
Maybe on the regular sidewalk,
Will be people
That maybe took a wrong turn in their own lives
Will have their shivering hands wrapped around a piece of cardboard with sharpy marker bleeding through it.
Ripped off a UPMC box,
Torn off of a sign,
The bottom of a dumpster,
Is something that unfortunate people
Will have to describe the pain they are going through.
Wouldn’t you be embarrassed,
To have to beg for the wallets of others
And exclaim what is wrong with your life?
So the next time you’re speeding across the yellow bridges,
Search your wallet
Wind down the window
And help the poor people
Clenching the cardboard signs.
I was trying to relax, but he kept yelling.
The park started off quiet, but he came and that ended quickly.
I understand that you found an ant that looks like Illuminati,
I don’t know how that is possible but
please stop yelling.
You can play, you can climb,
but if you yell one more time about
how the rock looks like a shark,
I will in fact shove a bug
It will get quieter, and quieter, quieter,
but give it a minute and you will hear
louder than a car alarm
that the leaf on the wall possesses Illuminati powers and
is trying to kill you.
This writing was supposed to be about the beauty of nature,
the relaxation of the park, but now
it’s about the child who looks suspiciously like Justin Bieber
yelling about a puddle that
sorta looks like an eyeball.
So I say again,
For the love of God…
No, you know what?
For the love of the Illuminati,
The Sun Behind The Clouds
You glance up at the sky.
Your blood sizzles with excitement to see the sun shine for the first time this morning.
you are faced with sheer disappointment.
The skyline is not splashed with blue,
It is burned with gray.
The clouds aren’t puffy white,
They are chilled with a light silver.
But worst of all,
no beautiful gust of yellow piercing out of the clouds and lighting the day.
It is just gone.
“Is the sun playing hide and seek with thunder and lighting?”
“Is it on vacation in California?”
“Is it at the moon’s birthday party?”
Or has it just gone behind the clouds, scared to face the judging citizens of the earth?
“It is ok, you can come out now.”
You hear a child yell in the distance.
But all its poor cry reaches is the raindrops falling down from the sky.
“Don’t cry, come out sun,
Come out of the clouds,
shimmer your joy onto this gray day.