Pride in the Paint MAG

October 11, 2016
By PresCocoRain GOLD, Montgomery, Alabama
PresCocoRain GOLD, Montgomery, Alabama
17 articles 0 photos 12 comments

Favorite Quote:
You don't have to burn books to destroy a culture. Just get people to stop reading them.
-Rad Bradbury


Pride wants to paint these nasty band shelves
Even with the leaves and cobwebs inside
Even with its maroon paint chipped and scratched
And peeling like rust from a bicycle chain
Because we're giving them another coat
Metallic gray sheen
as if a brand new car had just entered the lot
Fresh-painted shelves mean fresh beginnings.

Determination
is wiping the dust out of cubbies.
Courage
is reaching a hand into one of them,
Whileas Fear
Is praying that nothing tries to bite back,
like a spider or a beetle or
"Is that a little screw?”
“A mini forest?”
“Why this look like old, wrinkled skin?" 
Quotes brought to you by Disgust,
featuring a question from Confusion:
"Where in band have these beginning kids been?"
But, Joy is slabbing paint onto peeling shelves.
A misplaced stroke on an arm summons Laughter.
It squeaks when a paintbrush strikes a poor boy’s head.
Always knew that boy was friends with Stress,
But who knew his sides would be graying so soon?

Weary makes the body take a break.
Curiosity and Boredom watch the paint dry off.
Frustration glares at cramped hands.
Will it be worth it in the end?
"Probably not," says Pessimism.
For shelves scratch up and paint peels again
as the cobwebs reform and the forests regrow.
But, Optimism smiles at the memories.
We see good times in those gray streaks.
We laughed, cried, and fought to make those.
Pride wanted to paint those nasty band shelves.

And someone else will have a fresh start
when the shelves become all nasty again.
And we will be gone from the place we call
Home
before the shelves ever start to peel again.

Now, Pride wants to be a perfectionist.
"Do the cubbies look like they need a second coat?"


The author's comments:

Hi reader,

"Pride in the Paint" is a poem I wrote while thinking about graduatitng high school. As a Junior, it's coming up sooner than I always believe it to be (which can be for better or worse). On one hand, I'm glad to get out of the place I've been stuck at for almost all my life; for seventeen years, I've been attending a private school from Kindergarten to the present. But on the other hand, it is my home, and all the activities I love (especially band) are gonna physically disappear in my life-- and always be in my heart. To me, that is nostalgia, and it is one of the most powerful emotions to experience.

 

I wrote this poem for people in my situation. For those who are so desperately wanting to graduate high school, I ask you to pause. Think about what things you love about high school and youth, and enjoy it, with all you got, until the end. I still have a good two years until the end of my high school career, but I want to make it count. My nostalgia should be one of joy, and not so much bittersweetness; I hope I can influence you to believe the same, reader.

Thanks,
PresCocoRain


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