Today I saw a star
shooting across the sky
I hope it was a star
I hope it is a star
For I made a wish
To see you past three
If you saw the star
If you are the star
I hope you made a wish
to see me too
I will wait for you
under our tree
Till quarter past five
To race once more
—————
Hey strangers! I wrote this poem to respect my friend who died when we were in the fifth grade. He died after he was hit by a bus.
School used to let out at three pm but our parents won't come to pick us up till around five, five-thirty. We didn't have any classes together so we would race each other to the biggest mango tree in the yard. We would then argue on who is faster and then race again to decide who is faster.
After he died, our teachers told us that he was now a star; an angel that he was watching us.
For a while, I thought he did it on purpose, he was too smart to step in front of a bus by accident and too fast to not notice in time to step out of the way. Then it occurred to me that ten years olds don't commit suicide; at least I hope they don't.
I guess I still can. Hope that is.
