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#13

Poem

savannah

Feb 17, 2023

378

1 Min Read

x

Usually people say

That I’m like a bird

With my head

Up, up, up

In the clouds

Cloud being what

They called me

My thoughts going off rail

My train spiraling into a whole new

Stream of thoughts

Like a river, going on

And on and on and on

Until it reaches

The ocean

The ocean of thoughts

That connects them all like branches

Out comes a pencil

With its companion paper

Words come out like

Paint

And the paper bleeds a story

A tale of two

Or three

Or four

Or four hundred

Words scream and scream as they appear

“It’s for character development.” Is what comes out

Of the mouth of the torturer

Not Shakespeare

It’s me

Not Moby Dick

It’s me

It’s my hand

They’re my words

My thoughts put on paper

My dreams and wonders

My fascinations

All of mine

On paper

Snap

Snap, school is back in session

I have to come back down to the ground

Blink back the blanks in my brain

Um, I don’t understand

Up there I wasn’t here to hear you utter

Those words I don’t remember

Mhm, mhm, mhm

Oh, look

Here comes my train again

And here I am

Like a bird

On the wind on the find

For my mind that left me behind

Or was I the one who left my mind behind?

Ouch

Ouch, ouch, ouch

The pen, pencil, hurt me

I hurt the pen, pencil

It

Sna pped

Thinking too hard

Gripping too hard

My daydream is over

My adventure is over

My flight

is over

ns3.17.153.20da2

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#12 Short Story