My Rope

January 19, 2018
By , Franklin, WI

One day, I was holding onto rope;
The strong golden fibers glistening in the warm sun.
Every day, I would hold the soft braided strings;
And begin my journey of climbing it.
I would climb little by little, day by day.
But as the clock ticked on, the rope got slightly tougher;
A rough touch against my soft, dainty hands;
I felt a bit of a sting
When I looked down they were a light scarlet
But nevertheless, I continued to climb
They told me that once I reach the top of the rope, it would be extraordinary
It was a paradise.
So I continued to climb,
But when I did so, something happened.
My muscles would ache;
My arms
My legs
My feet
My hands
Everything began to hurt
But nevertheless, I continued to climb
I was persistent
I would reach the top of the rope,
To achieve the glorious heavens
But as I kept climbing, my hands started to burn
I kept trying and trying to climb that rope
But one day, I looked down at my hands
The same hands that were barely holding onto the rope,
And what was once a light red pain;
Turned into a dark red agony
But nevertheless, I continued to climb the rope
I would climb and climb
No matter how much my muscles ached
And begged for me to stop
No matter how red my hands turned
Because everyone kept telling me it would get better
Once I climbed the rope, I would reach the top
All I had to do was climb the rope to get there
But it was difficult to climb with the hand that I could feel clenching on mine
It would try to shove me back down the rope
Gripping my body,
The sharp nails digging into my fair skin
Dragging my lifeless corpse further and further down the rope.
Doing everything in its power to prevent me from getting to the top
Plucking my petite fingers from the tough rope
Trying to get me to let go
To give up
It would manipulate the weather as well
Making it rain all over
Storm.
The frigid sleet attacking my skin
Making it impossible to grasp onto the rope
And now when I look down at my hands they are bleeding
Bruising
Cutting
Stitching
Scarring
Burning
Everywhere; all over my once childlike hands
In complete and utter agony from the rope
But I continued to climb
Over time that rope had withered
What was once a strong healthy rope
Is now but only a single strand
Hanging from what once was the heavens
But now glares over me,
Mocking me.
I’m clutching onto the rope with one hand,
A hand that is only bones,
I look down at the mysterious fog looming under me.
I have come a long way.
I look up at the mysterious fog looming over me.
I still have a long way to go.
Should I let go?
Should I continue to climb?
I ponder that everyday.
But nevertheless, I continue to climb the rope.
And sometimes you have to climb it,
Little by little
Day by day
Because it’s all you can do,
To not let go.






Post a Comment

Be the first to comment on this article!

Site Feedback