ResponsibilityI walk into work, stop and gaze down aisle 10.My mind wanders.I would rather be on a beacha drink in my hand, falling asleep,next to the crashing of the waves.You walk by, my thought shatters.I want you to stop and talk to me.Loud noises all overwhelming.I stutter, paralyzed,I cannot say hello.Just 10 years ago,only a bike ride filled my mind.Free,riding down the street,wind at my face,hands off the bars, the aroma of Theresa's house.I smell vanilla, Theresa is home.Hours of talking,laughing,no responsibility,no place to go.Now, though, noise is in the present,chores to accomplish,work to be done.Unknown, I turn around.You're standing there,talking,but for how long?"Time for work," you say."Another responsibility?" I ask."Yes, another responsibility."by Andrea Blair, Clarkston, MI
This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.