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Submitted on
September 14, 2012
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the boy next to me just died
but he pressed play again and started
to chase his tail across a screen of purple blocks.
five seats away, a girl is trying to draw a human heart.
another girl is trying to finish her test.

"this class ends at 2 and it is 1:55."

the boy next to me has given up and
is checking his e-mail, while still others
pull out their computers to start clicking
away at letters that will never fade.

i am sitting here, wondering how to tell my mother
her sister tried to commit suicide.

some people say that an umbrella turned upwards
is a sign of bad luck, but there is a lot of bad luck
that has to do with umbrellas
so i just want to stand out in the rain
and deal with wet clothes and no bad luck
but no good luck either.

people ask kids what they want to be when they grow up.
(an astronaut, loved, a cowboy, a doctor, happy)
no one ever asks what they want to be
when they die. i guess the answer is obvious:
remembered.

i like reading poems
from the end to the beginning
so i can get the message and
come away changed even if i never finish the poem.

i wish i could stop making metaphors about
trees and motivational posters and ripped up books and
life and poems and red hunting hats
but i can't because
my mother's sister tried to commit suicide last night

and maybe i did too.
i
don't really
know anymore.

i'm so sorry.
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:iconbluestanza:
BlueStanza Featured By Owner Aug 7, 2013  Hobbyist Writer
I've always wondered about talent in an artist.  You know, how the really good ones always struggle with emotional issues? Maybe it's just me that has seen this, but I don't think I've ever met an artist--one that seems to write and show the truly beautiful in this world--who is without that haunting.  I can only assume something about this world fights the beautiful and an artist that is truly in tune with it must always be a soldier standing against all of that force that challenges true beauty.  That's a ramble, but I say all of that to get to the one-word point, that all-encompassing critique of your art that stems from my silly mind: Lovely.  
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:iconsuccesswithhonor:
successwithhonor Featured By Owner Mar 10, 2013  Student Writer
people ask kids what they want to be when they grow up.
(an astronaut, loved, a cowboy, a doctor, happy)
no one ever asks what they want to be
when they die. i guess the answer is obvious:
remembered.


the personal, sort of stream-of-consciousness take on social commentary really resonates beyond the text of the poem. it's beautiful, and though it's tragic, there's a sort of determination in your perspective on life.

fantastically human.
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:iconmyforverandyourday:
myforverandyourday Featured By Owner Sep 18, 2012
Don't give up. Ever.
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:icontessriane:
Tessriane Featured By Owner Sep 15, 2012  Hobbyist Writer
I hope you're okay. This is an excellent poem, but I'm worried about the events that have happened that have inspired it. Just... don't give up, okay?
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:iconlaniiii:
Laniiii Featured By Owner Sep 15, 2012   Writer
Wonderful. I loved it, and I'm not really a poetry sort of person.

And if you ever need someone to talk to, give me a shout, yeah?
Reply
:iconbleach-it-white:
BLEACH-IT-WHITE Featured By Owner Sep 14, 2012  Hobbyist General Artist
Oh my god, I want to give you hug across however many miles. This is heartbreaking, I seriously hope you've got someone with you who loves you.
Reply
:iconintricately-ordinary:
intricately-ordinary Featured By Owner Sep 14, 2012  Hobbyist Writer
I'm sorry :hug: I hope you're doing alright.
Reply
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