Blisters | Teen Ink

Blisters

March 7, 2010
By Allie Almanzar BRONZE, Las Cruces, New Mexico
Allie Almanzar BRONZE, Las Cruces, New Mexico
4 articles 0 photos 0 comments

I’m tired of feeling like an animal to be gawked at; to perform tricks, to satisfy bureaucratic requirements is my only meaning. I’m tired of youth; I’m tired of waiting with my facets idle, my mind blank, and my physical countenance deteriorating with my enthusiasm in step. I’m tired of people; of their dishonesty, of their blind submission. I’m tired of this shoddy world our parents left us with an archaic mindset to match; to withstand some objectless test is all we strive for, to reveal that we are a fit member of society; we are all mere shells of people wandering without passion. Look at what this test has done to our parents! They are a people so ignorant, so massacred by their own submission; a people who merely hope to past the time before their family drops earth upon them in a solitary coffin– I want more, but this gnaws away at me; eats me up and spits me out into an icy hell called depression. My desire is one so insatiable that it overtakes all normal feeling; to be loved, to be wanted, becomes trivial in this greater pursuit. I don’t want people or things; I want freedom.
A man is but the sum of his musings, of his hopes and dreams. I am so complacent, watching my passions slip through my outstretched hands as though of hot wax, marring my fingertips with hard and painful blisters. Although, I do not regret their presence, for they serve much the same purpose as my ancestor’s grace. They are my living solace; to know that hope once existed is vaguely comforting. They are an intriguing relic, one that ignites my wasted senses and inspires me to plow forth a difficult path. My children will be disgusted with by withered visage, my inexorably scarred hands, but they will discover a freedom of mind with relative ease, and dip into a reservoir of hopeful aspirations. For adolescence’s remainder, I shall remain indolent, but in this idleness a sleeping giant, waiting to reform a troubled world. My generation will soon awaken. Let’s hope there are enough people with blistered hands and fiery minds ready to claim freedom and ignite hope in the most genuine form.


The author's comments:
Well, this isn't exactly poetry, but I wasn't sure what to enter it under...

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