Nothing To Wish For

Nothing To Wish For

My mother said
I should never escape
From our house
after dark
because you never know
who or what might be prowling around…
but out in the darkness
is where I thrive
Lying with my body limply draped
over a smooth boulder
Staring up at the moon

You’re free to be
whomever you feel like,
escaping from the enclosed shell of your body
spilling out all of your feelings of hate, depression, and loneliness
Cruel, Snobby voices echo around me
Pointing at me
Telling me that I’m just a piece of dirt
“Feel free to stomp on me”
I never said it
But they seem to feel
As if they have the privilege to.
I shove all of this away
And dump it out into the black abyss around me
I let my muscles relax from their tensed state
And slump over backwards
like a puppet without a hand
My eyes wander upward
Staring up at the moon

The soft glow of fireflies
lights up only part of the dark atmosphere,
but though every one of those individuals
are small and of not much importance
the swift blinking of all those specks
enclose me in a pulsing orb
that illuminates my thoughts
telling me that I have a reason on this earth
and as of now
its out here
my head lying back on my neck
Staring up at the moon

Bright shimmering stars,
glistening from the heavens.
Pin pricks in black construction paper
With a lamp steadily lit behind it.
Gazing up at those mysterious lights
I think about the light that shines from beyond that construction paper
“Where does it come from?”
I ask myself
No one knows
But nothing’s impossible
I have learned that
From the blooming nature
That I am enveloped in
While lying on this smooth boulder
Staring up at the moon


The looming birch trees around me;
casting shadows into my view.
Throwing dark shapes into my mind…
pictures of my outcast face at school.
People ignoring me entirely,
as if I'm not there.
Just because I'm me!
Which is why I love
pushing that part of me away,
while I'm with
the fireflies
and the shooting stars
And if I ever see one,
I won’t have anything to wish for
It’s already here.

Hey there! June here!

I am not terribly fond of this poem, but it's not entirely bad. Of the first things I noticed, I found that this reads more like a story than a poem save for the line breaks. Someone once told me that the structure never makes a poem-- it's all secondary. The words are what builds it.

Here, I think you have good things to work with. Your story can grow, you can spin out from this and have a brilliant poem. But! There are some things you can work on.


For instance, it feels like you told this to us, and that clouds out the brilliance of your imagery. You have beautiful imagery-- especially that bit about the sky-- but the fact that everything else around this isn't as exciting takes away so much from this.


Connect your ideas, dear! In many spots here, it felt like you deserted one idea for another, especially in the last stanza. See here:

The looming birch trees around me;

casting shadows into my view.

Throwing dark shapes into my mind…

pictures of my outcast face at school.

What becomes of the shadows, and your face? I understand that you're going for rhyme here-- and as I often say, rhyme should almost never be your dominant focus. Think of it as a secondary tool, something you only use when you can. For now, I think this poem can use a bit of work. Try dropping the rhyme and writing out your ideas and slowly, by slowly incorporate rhyme into again again, dear.

Keep it up!

June