A Story In Truth

February 12, 2012
By AliceMarie143 BRONZE, Battle Creek, Michigan
AliceMarie143 BRONZE, Battle Creek, Michigan
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

Favorite Quote:
Pythagorus was misunderstood, and Socrates, and Jesus, and Luther, and Copernicus, and Galileo, and Newton, and every wise spirit that ever took flesh. To be great is to be misunderstood. . . - Ralph Waldo Emerson

I got off the bus today
and breathed in the toxic fumes
that the poisonous fuel creates
when being burned like the men
in the line of fire in Iraq

I walked further down the road.
Staring at my feet and occasionally
glancing to the grey sky for some sort of answer

I stumbled upon an empty glass bottle
Not broken like the person who drank the liquid
I kicked it as I walked past
To prove how greatly I detest the habit
That makes such vile, nasty creatures

I continued towards my destination
It started raining.
What was that word? Sympathetic. . . fallacy

I saw four people, three kids one adult.
Hat on backwards: Blonde boy
Carrying a laptop I once carried: Brunette boy
Talking loudly: Blonde girl
Pants down to his knees. . . : grown man

What's wrong with the world?
Nothing, it's just different now
I reached my door but it was locked and I was without a key

It started to rain a little harder
I contemplated my day, flipping hours inside out
Figuring out why everything seemed so glum
I imagined a world of happiness and I remembered
everyone needs a little pain now and then

I thought about erasing the world and starting over
But what would I paint it as?
Nothing different, I'm sure

The things around me that are bad have molded me
The things around me that are good have done the same
So why do I yearn for things to go back to the way that they were?
I wasn't completely happy then either
My thoughts were interupted by a loud noise

I seen the car that the screech came from
And I swear I'd seen it before
But it's dirtier now

I'm an observer of little things
Proven by the leaf that I watched fly across the street
It looked so fragile
My motherly instinct wanted to catch it and save it
Too lazy, force of habit. . .

I looked up at the grey sky
but this time I didn't want answers
"Dear God," I started to pray

"Please forgive me for all that I have done wrong,
lead the owner of that bottle on a better path
protect that grown man with his pants down low
show that little blonde boy your strength
and please bring our troops home safe

In Jesus name I pray, Amen"
My head fell in shame and I cried
And one last thing God, help me be your messenger

The author's comments:
This was inspired by an actual walk home from being dropped off at my bus stop.

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