Everything Can Change | Teen Ink

Everything Can Change

August 3, 2011
By BBuller GOLD, Flin Flon, Other
BBuller GOLD, Flin Flon, Other
15 articles 0 photos 1 comment

He rises from the floor
In a cold sweat; I fear.
All he’s wondering is
“When can I get the hell outta here?”

He stumbles to his feet
Head throbbing, body numb.
His heart lives in hell
Yet he resides in the sun.

For the first time in months,
He can’t believe he feels this
His heaven’s collapsed.
Satan gladly welcomes him in.

He remembers the memories;
Best do it now while he’s sober
He remembers her smile.
That alone urged him over.

Like a great work of art
One would never tire of
He knew she was the one.
The one he’d never let go of.

He strolled up towards her
Trying to make small talk
Really just wanting to meet her
And bask in her dazzling features.

Finally she turned, taking notice of him
Her sparkling eyes, they met his.
From this moment he knew,
He was absently lost in the abyss.

Innocently, they trade names
Offers to buy her a coffee.
He feels like its just another lost cause,
But to his surprise, she agrees…

Now he spends sacred moments with her
Each one better than the last.
He wants to stay in this moment forever,
And forget about his turbulent past.

When he’s with her, he’s high like a balloon
Life will just float on, his mind so carefree
Yet he’s oblivious to the plans
Life has laid out for thee.

How could life ever be great?
When all seems to be dead.
He’s heard that somewhere before,
Those damn lyrics are stuck in his head.
He remembers that dreaded day,
When he received that horrific call.
He was to propose to her that day
That once beautiful day in the fall.

He remembers it exactly
Two fifty-two, October ninth.
Someone had killed them that day
Someone had taken their lives.

They had fought the night before
His love for her, it didn’t show
What a tragic way to remember him by
He thinks she never would know…

But now she lies there, strangely calm.
She’s well dressed in black
Even God can’t even save them now
There’s no turning back.

The priest tries to calm their hearts,
His efforts mundane.
He recites a prayer loudly,
Truthfully, yet sane.
He cries:

“Come all you weary
Come gather ‘round near me,
This day is very sorrowful,
Let us help find peace for this soul.”

He must remember the good times,
Never regretting the bad
“There’s always tomorrow”
But this thought makes him sad.

They had so much to do yet,
So much to do and to say.
But that stranger took her from him
On that tragic, long ago day.
Someone had reminded him:

“Son, your life may be over
But you still carry on.
Live each day like your last
Keep holding on strong.”

These lies may be working
Some times he thinks they do
Your life may seem meaningless
Without someone who says “I love you too.”

But now he lies drunk,
Unconscious. Body cold on the cement floor
He wants to forget about today.
And never find out what tomorrow has in store.

The author's comments:
First piece I seriously wrote, in 2007(?).

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