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Rated: E · Poetry · Comedy · #1308626
for those who think just a bit outside the box

The girl in front of me in class has split ends
I keep staring at them and they keep staring at me
As best they can
I try to follow one strand with my eyes
But they all begin to glint and twist into each other
Like the conflicted branches of a tree in my neighbors’ backyard
And pretty soon my eyes start to cross
And all the moments blend together
They’re like thick brown ropes now
Which she keeps flicking all over her shoulders
Some of them are getting tangled up in her backpack strap
I wonder if I should warn her
That she may be hairless if she keeps flicking
But I don’t
I just keep staring at them
And the brown ropes keep burning imprints together in my mind
Pure contrast

They remind me somehow of someone who said something
I think it had to do with ropes
I think it may have been important
They spoke of society as a rope
We being the strands and fibers
Alone we don’t stand a chance against the pull and tug of life
Next to each other we are stronger
But some of us will break
Leaving the others weak with question eyes
It is not until we immerse ourselves in each other
Intertwine our lives with one another
Make those crucial connections which so bind our being
Then we will be strong

How fast would the earth spin
If we were so tightly knit together
So strong
That not even the most powerful force could break us
How beautiful
And I’m thinking to myself now
How easy it seems just to be the stone that ripples the water
Just to tell one person
Who could tell one more person
Who just might
Take one step closer
To pure contrast
To so beautiful

Just one person
Anyone
Even the girl in front of me
That’s all it would take
And the idea keeps twitching in my brain
I just keep thinking
Over and over
If I only I told her
I am but a stone
Yet I could change everything

I tap the girl in front of me on the shoulder
She turns around and flicks her hair
She looks pissed
I ask her what tomorrow’s homework is.
© Copyright 2007 Emily Spirit (simplycalledem at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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