All Nonfiction
- Bullying
- Books
- Academic
- Author Interviews
- Celebrity interviews
- College Articles
- College Essays
- Educator of the Year
- Heroes
- Interviews
- Memoir
- Personal Experience
- Sports
- Travel & Culture
All Opinions
- Bullying
- Current Events / Politics
- Discrimination
- Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking
- Entertainment / Celebrities
- Environment
- Love / Relationships
- Movies / Music / TV
- Pop Culture / Trends
- School / College
- Social Issues / Civics
- Spirituality / Religion
- Sports / Hobbies
All Hot Topics
- Bullying
- Community Service
- Environment
- Health
- Letters to the Editor
- Pride & Prejudice
- What Matters
- Back
Summer Guide
- Program Links
- Program Reviews
- Back
College Guide
- College Links
- College Reviews
- College Essays
- College Articles
- Back
What Can Never Truly Be
Pt1. The Living Dream
Heavy breathing echoes off pillars.
Towering grey, cement spires:
:feet crunch gravel:
Eyes watch water drip and... fall...
“We found our place.”
“It is now our space.”
“Just like Jesus of Suburbia.”
“It will be our utopia!”
An embrace in the gloom.
The highway above—cars zoom.
Exhaust taints every corner.
They crossed a new border.
A new day, a new dawn.
Bike pedals churn—
The creak of gears,
And the ruuusssshhh of wheels.
Death is on a far horizon,
And on them shines the sun.
Into the life they plunge.
Live life on the very edge!
Clutching colored cans,
Hands wave across walls!
More dreams come alive—
And struggle to survive.
A galaxy and poem appeared from her cans:
Stars as numerous as the sands.
His hand waved out a monster and rage:
Releasing anger from an unseen cage.
Dreams now living in color
They collapse into a ratty stuffed chair
He holds her gently
As the sun sets in the sky.
Every summer day
Spent in a blissful haze.
They sketched memories in stars,
Played God’s great game of chess.
Pt2. Reality Hurts
She peddles fast to their place
She loves the daily escape,
But when she arrives, he is not there.
She waits, he does not appear
The sun drops low,
And she must return home.
She texts him at home from bed
“Stop playing dead <3”
She sleeps a haggard, fitful sleep.
Awakens a with a leap!
The sun shining...
On her bedroom door, a gentle rapping.
Her mother’s face does not bode well.
She felt the fear in her mind begin to swell.
The worst was ignored,
But now fears infect her like a spore.
Her mother’s mouth opens,
And out flow horrors.
An accident.
A car. A thud. Away his life went.
NO.
No.
NO.
NO!
Her mind rebels.
Every fiber of her being recoils.
A wave of anguish
Across her mind with a might swoosh!
The world turns dark,
And the horror she feels fades to a spark...
Pt3. The Comedown
The dew drops glisten on blades of grass,
Four long years have come to pass.
She walks softly towards the tomb:
A rolling mound, with a young gravestone
She kneels down and touches the stone.
“Precious, it’s been too long.”
A tear slips off a soft cheek,
Where too many tears, since that day, streak.
She closes her eyes and sees him there,
Holding her in his gentle stare.
“Come back!”
“You know I cannot.”
She opens here eyes,
And sorrow escapes from her desperate cries.
The world is so cold.
Their story, it never had a chance to be told.
The plans and dreams they built together
Still haunt her.
No chances for goodbye.
No explanations and not a single reason why.
For her it happens over and over again,
Never having time to mend.
It goes on and on.
She forever will be alone.
Similar Articles
JOIN THE DISCUSSION
This article has 0 comments.