Out of Reach | Teen Ink

Out of Reach

March 5, 2017
By scottric311 BRONZE, South Plainfield, New Jersey
scottric311 BRONZE, South Plainfield, New Jersey
3 articles 0 photos 0 comments

Out of Reach

In passing, a boy is troubled by a fleeting face—
Unremarkable, yet distinct—on the bustling street.
Looking pained, the face betrays a cry for help,
But says nothing aloud before it’s gone, disappeared.
Ignoring a thought, the boy continues alone,
Convincing himself that the thought’s an illusion.

But then a white sheet quickly breaks the illusion;
Affixed to a pole, it bears the same troubled face.
Aside from bold text, the face is alone.
The girl on the poster looks at the boy on the street.
The text states her plight: she’s missing, disappeared.
The poster implores its reader for help.

Distressed, he recalls that implicit plea for help
And knows that the faces are the same; it’s no illusion.
He turns back to find her; she’s long disappeared,
Yet he now sees the visage in every stranger’s face.
Irretrievably, she’s been lost in the dark crowded street.
Though surrounded by people, the boy feels alone.

He returns in a daze to an empty house—alone—
Grasping for a way to answer the call for help.
Questions swirl in his mind about that girl on the street:
Does she knows she’s in danger or find solace in the illusion
Of safety? Was she taken and, if so, then what sinister face
Belongs to the culprit who, with her, disappeared?

Nighttime has fallen and the sun has disappeared
From the sky while the girl sits frightened, alone.
The darkness of the room hides the tears on her face;
Thick walls with no windows hide all cries for help.
She’s been clinging to hope, wishing life was an illusion
Since that fateful night when she was seized on the street.

But firm and unwavering, the boy prowls the same street
In hopeless denial since his leads disappeared.
He seems to make progress, but it’s just an illusion;
With no help from others, he searches alone.
Yet an image of the girl still appears and asks for help;
The boy, feeling numb, recalls the pain in that face.

Pursuing illusion, he’s trailed by guilt on every street.
While imagining that face that, once in reach, has disappeared.
Wandering alone, he’s haunted by the girl he couldn’t help.



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