Poems

Ginger

It was back in May on the rainiest of days.

Ginger was a little lost,

to take a break she took a seat under a tree filled with moss.

The sound of rain drops played a rough melody on her umbrella top.

She glanced into the distance and then from the path at which she came,

to her they looked the same.

She loved the unknowing,

and the possibilities around the bin.

She loved the feeling they gave her like they did right then.

Adventure was in her blood,

and courage in her head.

For she'd take an unknown path,

knowing she might end up dead.

Her parents and friends thought she was strange,

but she was wild and refused to change.

Sometimes she sat and thought of a dog's life on a chain,

but that was what scared her,

because a that's what she saw of her world,

when looking through the window pane.

She stood up and stretched her legs,

On with her journey she treks.

After a while of walking alone,

glimmering headlights come to view.

Only the rain so heavy,

cloaked her from sight.

And in a tragic accident Ginger lost her life.

People she knew didn't know what to say or do.

Thinking of Ginger, they often got confused.

A girl, always on an adventure,

and just what did she find?

She met the hood of a car,

and came to the end of the line.

The crowd that knew her began to believe,

staying within the known, is the best route.

But maybe in reality they're the dogs on leashes,

that learn to live without.