Murky brown water,
Probably won't last long.

I've perched myself on a stone wall
In a graveyard
This muggy evening.
My pail redhead skin
And maroon painted toes
Are a startling contrast
Against the dark
Evaporating stream below me.

Softened stones, And scared thoughts,
Probably won't last long.

The adjusting of the season
Leaves mowed grass spat
Out by a man-made monster
In the water,
And orange tainted leaves.
Small fish bicker with each other,
And turn over with a glint
If their silver bellies.
My stomach is tight
With anxiety.

Mud caked banks,
Probably won't last long.

A dragonfly
Befriends my toes,
Green shine,
Suspended in the air.
My fears for my future
Buzzing in my head.
Crickets clicking
At the sinking sun.
The abundance of rain
Must have overfilled this brook in the early summer,
And now it's dying.

There's so much hope for me, and my "talents", my bright future.
It probably won't last long.