I’m finding trust again, in the eyes of others, true blue and forest green.
I’m breathing clean air, inhaling the air you durst to.
I’m rolling down grassy grounds with you, all of you.
I remember the first time air became tainted, choking me like smoke follows the flame.
I remember the first time the air stole away from me.
The world was turning under myself as I spun and took control.
I wielded my own orbit with spread open fingers and arm.
The wind struggled against my reign to slow me.
In the end, it only cooled me.
I found a park that was all wooden.
The trees, the kites, and the swings were too. When I fell, I felt that wood hard, and splintering.
I stole away fast as the air did from my lungs.
I abandoned the wooden framing, the splintering stinging, and the laughing children.
I found a grassy hill.
I lay on my belly, the grass was soft on my stinging knees.
I began to roll down the hill.
The grass blunted each bump, soothing each scrape.
Then, there was the glass.
The broken bottle hid hideously, ominously blending in .
It struck me with a stabbing jab in my knee.
Tears dotted my eyes.
Blood was staining my torn shorts.
I was told to keep playing, until my mom saw me.
She believed me, knew my cries, when no one else would.
You are like that.
You see the cuts, trust my eyes when I cry.
Looking back, the glass wasn’t the cause of my pain.
The lack of belief was what cut me deepest.
Trust is the key that drives the soul.
Dawning Creations 
Leave a reply to Woodsy Cancel reply