Sore Loser | Teen Ink

Sore Loser

April 10, 2013
By sooraalsalaam GOLD, Ellicott City,
sooraalsalaam GOLD, Ellicott City,
14 articles 0 photos 3 comments

Favorite Quote:
&quot;Words mean nothing until they mean something to YOU.&quot; <br /> <br /> &quot;Be the person you love. That way, the person who falls in love with you falls in love with what you love.&quot; <br /> <br /> &quot;Always keep an open mind. You never know what beauty you may find.&quot;


Fifteen years in the sand,
The waves tried to wash it away
but they wouldn't make it
A colorful game, a festival in my head
Circling and circling
Fueling my engine infinitely
Locked in my car and can't escape
The moving tour, driving me through the day
Not stopping at nights
Flashes from her everywhere
Flashes of him everywhere
They flash, they spin, I almost hit them
Flash again, they're gone

I took my money and ran
I held onto the gift in a box, still yet to be opened
And it opened itself into an hourglass,
whose hours had since spilt upon its grand unraveling
It's grown and sucked me in now and I'm preparing to fall

The poisoned child on the billboard stares upon everyone who drives by
Day after day the imposed pity grows weaker and weaker
My powers of sympathy drain away
My gifts turn against me and warn me
My hourglass turns against me once more
It's no longer time to put on the show,
To seek shelter, to live to sustain
It's time to live to grow
It's time to move on
But I'm so sore, so hurt, so torn
still yet the pain feels real,
impulse still makes me cringe when i touch the scars
though it's been long since the injury was more than a phantom's

I don't know quite where to go, but I know one thing: I've got to let go
Things happened the way they did, and it's time to accept it
The wounded mother duck doesn't gawk when her child passes away
It's time to clear the scene of the crime, emerge from teepee
back into the tempest of open air

So scared to be a fool, so scared to fall into a hole
So scared to grow disillusioned
Like a moth to light, a flower under a small lamp
Only to find my hope is made of dust
Not again, not again.

As long as I feel I share the same blue sky,
As long as I know that we can all feel the winds
and pressures and pains
As long as I know that moving on isn't just two syllables
A legend whose legacy I'll feed on a mountain
With olive branches in hand
Fruitless in mind

Fifteen years in the sand, now compact into stone
Memories hardened into past
I walk back into my car, pull up my beach chair
I wet my feet one more time
Get into my car
Drive away now into sunsets unknown.


The author's comments:
About a man who has felt like a victim for too long...and acted like a martyr for even longer...begins to accept the idea of moving on after his son turns against him and tells him to grow up.
It's about starting over, moving on, and accepting what's happened...fifteen years later.

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