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Impossibly Wrong
April 1, 2019
Cold.
Dark.
Confusing.
Things that seem
impossibly wrong.
Convoluted.
Strange.
Scary.
And impossibly wrong.
The cold air
seems to whisper
a sort of
strange lullaby.
One of
a mother
reassuring a child
when all is not well.
Not a sure,
sound,
strong lullaby.
One of worry
and fear.
Telling the child
it’ll all be okay
when it isn’t known
if it is true.
I shift from foot to foot.
Nervous,
waiting,
afraid,
And impossibly wrong.
© Jordan L., Wichita, KS
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My name is Drake. I am a 14-year-old at Leadership Prep. in Frisco, Texas. I took up poetry earlier this year for a school project but found that I actually enjoyed it. This is the product.