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The Unicorn Notebook

This poem is about reflecting on how fall used to be different when I was a child.

By Amanda ZylstraPublished 7 years ago 2 min read
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Fall is in the air.

The bittersweetness of school shopping has started.

The summer is officially over in three weeks.

And the time for new socks and shoes will be here.

Stocking up on supplies to start the new year off right.

I see children picking out notebooks with their mothers at the grocery store.

Their eyes light up as they show off the unicorn design on the cover.

I have not owned a unicorn notebook in decades.

I am a product of life now.

My learning is monitored through life events and not grades.

I don't have a set-out date to purchase new underwear.

I have underwear older than some of my pets.

I miss the feeling of getting excited about a new package of pens and a new notebook to take notes in.

As a writer, buying notebooks and pens is not the same experience.

It's usually buying a box of Pilot Precise Rolling Ball V7 in Fine at Office Max surrounded by small business owners.

The excitement is not the same.

I know exactly what I am buying

before I enter the store.

Blue or Black ink.

I buy these pens by the box

Because they are my stable.

I must use this exact pen.

It takes me 15 months to go through a box of pens.

Some weeks I go through a pen a week if I am motivated.

Other weeks I use my computer to write

And not much life blood is drained from my pen.

As a kid, I didn't have a set list of what I was going to purchase for school.

I had a very vague list of the items I would need.

There was more adventure to shopping.

I might even end up with fun colored pens and scented erasers.

I didn't have a set map of the store drawn out.

The world of Lisa Frank was popular in the 80s.

Unicorns in vibrant colors decorated notebooks and other accessories.

I have changed so much from those days.

I wonder if the girl who was excited about glitter highlighters still lives in the back of my soul.

Back before corporate jobs took over my days.

I think she is still alive in there somewhere.

And that girl I was in another life wants me to buy fun things sometimes.

Unleash my inner child.

Buy the notebook with the unicorn on it

And not care what my coworkers think

Or what is conditioned into me to be proper.

I only use blue or black ink because it's business appropriate.

There is a part of me that still writes my own personal notes in purple or green pen.

I long to be different

In a world of 9–5

A land of clones all doing the same job.

I am one of them now.

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About the Creator

Amanda Zylstra

Cat Lover, Poetry Writer, Tea Drinker, Skincare and Beauty Product Obsessed. Check out my poetry collection "Passing Skeletons" available on Amazon.

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