Far Away | Teen Ink

Far Away

May 16, 2021
By bgates BRONZE, Fitchburg, Massachusetts
bgates BRONZE, Fitchburg, Massachusetts
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

In a small house, 

In a land far away,

Lived a girl in a house

Who loved to spend the day,

Smiling and playing,

Hair bouncing and splaying.

Near a small house,

In a land far away.


The girl wished and she dreamed,

For the golden star that gleamed.

For a day that would last,

And that would be a blast,

For the girl in the blouse,

Who lived in that house,

In a land far away.


But for the girl in the blouse,

Who lived in this house,

Her dream was just that.

A dream for the gleam.

One that she hoped,

Would reign supreme,

In this land far away.


Sadly, this would never occur,

For the young girl,

As she hoped and dreamed,

My mind reigned supreme,

As it took away the gleam,

The gleam of which the young girl

Dreamed.


This girl in the blouse,

Who lives in the house,

In the land far away,

Was sad.


I sat up,

My heart started with a thump.

The thoughts stormed my head

As I sat up in my bed.

In never-ending drilling,

As I sat there willing

It to stop.


But, no.

She kept smiling,

And conniving,

While I sat there dying.

It seemed like I was drowning,

Feeling myself frowning.

I was tired.

I gave up.


But then I saw a cup.

Half-full or half-empty?

I saw half-full,

So I began to pull

Myself to air.

It wasn’t fair,

As my sopping hair

Blocked by glare

To the girl in the blouse,

Who lives in the house,

In a land far away.


I was sick of the schtick

Of the girl.

The lying.

The conniving.

The smiling.

Of the girl.

It was her,

In a blouse,

In a house,

Of a land far away.


In a flash,

I was back.

I sat up and looked around the room,

My room.

There sitting was my sister,

How I missed her.

My heart pounded like a band,

As I began to stand,

And I realized I despised,

The girl in the blouse.


The girl in the blouse,

Who lives in that cursed house,

In that land far away.

I didn’t envy her,

She was alone.

No one to turn to,

When sad,

Or even mad.


But for me,

I have my family.

The people who birthed me,

Raised me,

Fed me,

Bathed me,

And my friends,

Who are with me,

To all ends.


The author's comments:

In honor of poetry month last year, I was encouraged to try my hand at writing my own piece, and this poem is the result. It wasn't until this year that multiple trusted sources told me that I should get it published. This is all thanks to them. I hope everyone who reads it enjoys it.


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