Piece 3: The Curly Haired Boy
The Dirty Park Bench Anthology
Silent. Silent. Silent.
I couldn't utter a word.
In a constant state of fluster.
I couldn't utter a word.
I was constantly ailed by something
Or another.
I was stricken with my curse,
Yet some how blessed,
After all, it could have been worse.
Smiling, laughing,
Untouched by such realities.
My highs, my lows,
Running on the tips of my toes.
I was mesmerized with straws & spoons,
Oh how I loved my tunes.
This came unexpectedly,
Sudden, to soon.
I didn't understand,
I wasn't able to.
But the worst part about it was,
I was no longer able to run on the tips of my toes.
About the Creator
Bryttnie Chaffin
Writing things that are fun and/or have powerful emotion behind it, maybe some educational things. Writing about my personal feelings, those of others (real or fictional), or just fun things that my mind makes up. Thanks for reading.
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