Magazine, website & books written by teens since 1989

Analogous Forever

On that hopeless chair I sit, worrying more about life than the color wheel
and how if you mix the wrong colors you’ll get an ugly brown
and with a chuckle I realize that my own life’s become a bit brown
as I wonder why they don’t teach us the color of crying
I think it’d be more useful to learn the application of the color wheel
to life and the present
rather than why green goes next to blue and on it’s other side is yellow
and I wonder what might happen
if I were to raise my hand and share a poem
about how me and you are analogous, forever
and I really couldn’t care less about red and purple
the next line would say how our virtues are intermediate
because they come in between serenity’s blue
and the green field of luck
that fate put in a bottle
and had me drink the day I met you
and I’d go on a rant about how the past was merely contour
with defined edges I’ve only traced, not filled in
but the future’s non-objective because it’s been too abstracted
by the late-night love poems when I should be studying for our midterm
but now this is a non-prose
review guide
telling of complimentary desires and reality
because they’re really two opposites
you say you want to
yet really we don’t do it again
and yes, I know that
yellow’s across from purple
but in this mind that’s not what matters
maybe you should make a tirade
about how all I do is wander
but it’s funny because
I really don’t mind
when I know you should be teaching
why heartbreak’s a shade
making dreams darker
instead of red turning to maroon
because how will that ever help me?
On this test you should ask why there’s so much positive space
inside my heart
when they’re should be
a keystone of memory
to remind of the anguish I’ve suffered
like you have when precious purple went next to orange
and my, how this world is so deranged.
Before you get sarcastic yet again,
realize that this poem’s roof is gabled,
balanced with truth and mild regret
but I’m giving you coffers to lighten the load
because I know domed poems can be heavy
and when the aqueduct of emotions comes out flowing a free
at least you’ll know I listened.




Post a Comment

Be the first to comment on this article!




Site Feedback