The end is near
I can feel it closing in
The walls press against me
I am done
I fall
I look up to see a bright blue sky
The sun peeks out behind a fluffy white cloud
The grass tickles my arms
I stand to gaze at the world around me
It is perfect like before
When the sky showed blue
And the sun shined yellow
When children would run and laugh
When people weren’t dying in the streets
When mass graves weren’t dug
Now it’s the After
After, when the sky is molten gray and the grass a hopeless brown
Where children work in the factories
Where everything blends together
But I am free,
Free of the hopelessness we call our world
Floating onward and upward
I am a feather
I am air
I have no body
I am short lived
I am eternal
Dec 13, 2015
Dec 13, 2015 at 1:36 AM UTC
The end is near
I can feel it closing in
The walls press against me
I am done
I fall
I look up to see a bright blue sky
The sun peeks out behind a fluffy white cloud
The grass tickles my arms
I stand to gaze at the world around me
It is perfect like before
When the sky showed blue
And the sun shined yellow
When children would run and laugh
When people weren’t dying in the streets
When mass graves weren’t dug
Now it’s the After
After, when the sky is molten gray and the grass a hopeless brown
Where children work in the factories
Where everything blends together
But I am free,
Free of the hopelessness we call our world
Floating onward and upward
I am a feather
I am air
I have no body
I am short lived
I am eternal
Request permission to use this poem