All these years I've been in school, the only way I got home was on the school bus.
Then
I loved having more time with my friends, seeing the older kids from the senior class and because I was the last one to go home I now know where everyone lives.
I absolutely hated to be home so it was my only escape from it.
For two hours I was free, for two hours I felt free.
The nice fresh air and nature in my body felt perfect.
Now
My senior year, and I'm still the last one. But something changed.
The way I felt back then is not the same now.
Global warming has changed my beautiful city to just dust in the air.
And every day for two hours I have to breathe that.
Every school day my longs get filled with yellow pigment.
The sun doesn't fell on my face anymore, nature is not bright green but an ugly gray color.
And even if all of this is killing us, Mother Nature wants my streets to be colored by her.
And so they blossomed.
All over they grew from the dead. Flowers painted the gray feeling of my city.
Written on my way home.
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PoesiaMy mind is like a poisoned apple. From a simple glance, everything seems fine. But once you taste it, it becomes a whole different story. . . . Highest Ranking: [#66 in Poetry]
