Can I Live on a Sailboat?

July 29, 2012
By booksmangos BRONZE, Bloomsburg, Pennsylvania
booksmangos BRONZE, Bloomsburg, Pennsylvania
2 articles 0 photos 3 comments

3rd grade was the bomb
yeah, fool, when I say the bomb, I mean the bomb
Everyone was so cool back then, you know

I was friends with Katie, Aleah, and Samantha
All of us wrote stories about this mouse that wrote motorcycles
We actually meant "rode" motorcycles, but we always put down "wrote" for some reason

But then we got to middle school, and then to high school
The Age of Teenagerdom
The boys I had crushes on turned into swearing, girl-pinching machines
Katie, Aleah, and Samantha turned into distant-eyed beauties, they never talk to the kids with the books in their weak hands anymore

Not to the shining star that comes into a grade every now and then, wearing his favorite color (yellow in my case), and sweatpants, with a beautiful smile effortlessly graced on his goofy face

...He always tries to hit the ball in gym class, no matter the Auroras of Pseu-Mightiness you find everywhere (even in those darn gym teachers)

At 5 p.m. after school yesterday, I saw Aleah in a dark spot in the hallway kissing her boyfriend
This confused me
The boyfriend, Dick, was going out with Samantha, wasn't he?... oh no, they broke up
Like watching two bears eating off each other's faces

Two seniors were standing there and watching them, but Aleah and Dick were oblivious
I just walked away, and went home and looked at old picture albums of my grandparents

I swear, I think those people are populating too fast and will control the world one day
All this stuff scares me, just to say
Sometimes I act cocky when I feel insecure
Sometimes I dream of this beach It's very nice, and it has long strands of sea-grass trying to reach out, with waves out in the ocean nustling each other

I go there, and stand with my feet wide apart, taking in the air That's when I really dream, to be honest
I imagine a little sailboat coming down from the sky, gliding on air, and it picks me up from my back, and takes me wherever it wants to go

The author's comments:
My idea for this poem came from a picture taken by Maria Flore.

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