Life is fleeting

October 17, 2010
By Jacolyn Shelton BRONZE, Wood Dale, Illinois
Jacolyn Shelton BRONZE, Wood Dale, Illinois
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

Life is fleeting.

Life is fleeting and twisted.
Mangled into a million different perspectives,
But all the same basic theme.

First you are born.
A ball of wiggling flesh
Crying and crying,
Unsure and unaware of everything around you.
Your mother holds you in her arms,
And for some reason through that mess
Of blood, matted hair, and wrinkly skin
She finds beauty in you.

Soon you are labeled with a name.
And for reasons unbeknownst to me,
that name will stick to you
For a good part of your life.

Then you grow
And soon enough you are a child

You are running and playing

But quickly that innocence falls away
You begin to notice the evil in people

And the evil in yourself

Soon you are in high school, moody and relentless
Unappreciative of everything that you have

Then you graduate, and become an

Soon, as you grow older,
That name that was tagged on your chest has now been erased
Scribbled over with titles like;
Grandpa, father, mother, aunt, grandmother, niece, nephew…

Soon you’re just another nameless face in the crowd.

You lose your faith
You lose your hope
You lose your innocence

And one day you’ll be lying on your deathbed
Reminiscing on all of the things you wish you had done

But you can’t go back.
You will hope, and plead, and cry to return to better times

But you will never go back.
Then you’re gone.

People will mourn.
People will pretend like you were a much better person than you were
They will look into your casket and say;
‘oh, look how beautiful they are’
When in reality,
You will look dead, lifeless… gone.

People will lie at your funeral
They will say how close they were to you
They will tell stories of your
Extreme generosity
When most of them probably never happened.

And then they will cry.
They will cry and cry

Because after all,
Tears brought you into this world

And they will lead you out.

The author's comments:
My great grandpa had just died when I wrote this, so you could say I was a little bitter.

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