Writing

In the past, the greatest people in history were known for changing the world for the better.

People see me run 

towards the sun

but they don't see

what I’m running from.

I chase one high after another,

picking up the pace to outpace the monster

but when dusk comes

One foot

Infront of the other

Head held high

Flat expression

On my face

The only sign

Of any emotion

Are my fists

Clenched by my sides

Or my thumb

Tapping each finger

No one died

right?

I wasn't affected

but I am affected.

I know them

their situation

we're good friends

but why is all of this happening in my lifetime?

In our lifetimes?

The trees 

lightly dance in the 

 cold 

winter air, 

the birds sing a song 

like a choir the sound 

echoes on tops of hills 

enlightening the day,

The little girl sat in her swing

blond curls the way they are before

you grow up the everywhere I don't care

it looks like my hair was woven from sunlight

a throne for a flower crown.