A Box Of Chocolate

VI (Evanescent

This too was a class assignment. We had to use the poem, Who Will Cry For The Little Boy by Antwone Fisher as a sort of template and write a poem about ourselves.

The link is the best one I could find. It's a clip from the movie, entitled Antwone Fisher which, was made after the publication of his autobiography, Finding Fish.

(wrote this sometime between November 25 and Dec 3 of 2013.

Evanescent

Evanescent is she who bears the burden of many,

The rock upon which they lean,

And the pages in their diary.

Evanescent is she whose fingertips rarely are lifted from a book,

whose ears are ever flooded with music,

And whose love of food is hard to beat.

Evanescent is she who cannot sit still,

Who practices piano on any given surface,And whose pick is never far from reach.

Evanescent is she whose opinion they clamour for,Though she can barely make a decision for herself.

Evanescent is she whose smile is ever present,

Whose voice will forever soar in song,

And who delights in forever being underestimated,

So that she may prove naysayers wrong.

Equally evanescent is she who clothes herself in sarcasm,

And who dons a crown of joyous self-mockery.

She, too, is evanescent,

The girl who strives to find an answer to everything,

Who revels in individualism,

And who, though forever bored, is ever active.

Evanescent is she who is the model of contradiction:

She who is self-conscious,

But a paradigm of conceit.

And she, whose words can enclose you in peaceful lotuses,

Or pierce you like thorny roses.

Evanescent is she, who, with an air indifference,

Glides to the background,

Only noticed when needed but otherwise left alone.

But, if our evanescent girl,

Is tired of sidelined,

Has she the right to complain if it is self-imposed?

Evanescent is she who is not sure.

Evanescent is she, who will be wondering,

Forevermore.

Evanescent is she.

And evanescent, too, is me.