gone, hoping for disaster

by B. J., 14

Simplicity and complexity—

the way we see things across the

rough waters in this one

shape, one color type country—

it was never mine, and I try

not to cry, but I’m fine. Goodbye.

Night time is in the night sky.

Blinded by the hands of fear, you’re left

moonless. Flashing lights of red and blue—you

know you’re not safe, even when walking to school.

And you make a wish upon every

white dandelion. Time has a precious way

of showing its color just by looking

at rose petals. But if it happens it happens.


 Red Bank, New Jersey