When I opened the door to

my mind every morning

I would groan, saying

It's time to open the lids to

my eyes, hoping everything

would go well at school.

My mind all in a flurry,

telling myself it would be alright,

but than, I would begin to remember

that I promised my best friends

that humorous story about that one kite.


My brain would start to unthaw,

the cruel chill soon looses its heart,

as I quickly piece together my thoughts,

glad, for once, I have a person to

look forward to, look for in the crowd.

 People to laugh with, not stare, to please,

and finally let those creative streaks glow.

I no longer had to practice the violin

solo, I could play as a trio, instead! 

The mist left, even while we

famed and teased and gamed and appeased

all of us grew, happy and a mirror

image of all in this wicked crew.

I felt my wiring sliding

down my fenceposts, and might have said,

something crazy or some two,

as I described the chaos following

that kite's fabric sticking

to my neighbor's backyard fence.

And as the paint of last year's slur

begins to harden, the streaks

of silver finally begin to show, I have to wonder

about last years blur:

would I be the same soul, frozen coveralls

sealing, stealing, and blazing its cold, cool clutches?


This poem is about: 
My community
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 


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