"Always Changing"
Location
A small bud wakes up in a blanket of snow.
Plop. A drop from above.
Plop, plop. Another.
Plop, plop, plop, plop.
They refuse to stop, but that does not bother me.
I shrug it off and hold myself up high.
Waiting to be in full bloom when summer comes around.
Seasons change; so do I.
I am no longer taunted by snowflakes.
Now, I am gazed upon by the luminious sun.
Maybe, I am not a flower.
Maybe, I am a little sparrow.
Aimlessly wandering around from place to place.
Soaring through the broad horizon.
In need of a place where I can call home.
As I land on a branch, I stumble upon a crowd.
I hesitate, deciding whether I should get closer.
No, this is not my place.
I spread my wings and fly away swiftly.
Maybe, I am not a flower.
Maybe, I am not a sparrow.
Maybe, I am a stray cat.
Traveling from city to city.
In search for food.
In search for an owner.
In search for a home.
Independent, but lonely.
Wishing to be something else is futile.
I am not a flower, a sparrow, or a cat.
I am just an “average” teenage girl.
At the age of 17.
Living in a world as big as it is unknown.