Black combat boots
Teach the grass who is in charge around here
As I walk home from school.
I am in sixth grade and still believe that
There are things worth wishing for in the world
And that birds and stars still herald hope.
I believe things are more than they are,
So when I see a bright pink crayon
Floating in the sea of decaying green
And melting at the edges where a stray cigarette was
Snuffed out next to it
My mind dreams up worlds
Where this means that I can survive even when
There is death all around me and
even when I am burned.
To sixth-grade me, this is
a piece of sun in a blackened world,
Because I still believe that things are more than they are.
YOU ARE READING
We Write for Fear of Silence
Poetry{My soul put into words. Writing is how I put myself back together again. Writing is how I love.} **all poems are mine** HIGHEST RANKING: #30 IN POETRY & #1 IN TEEN POETRY
