Young Writers Society

Great rainbow-flowed fields
Turn away from me
And I wonder why as I defy gravity

And, hovering three feet off the ground
I will watch an era pass
And I will weep over
Tears I have not shed
Lose sleep over
Stresses of lying in bed

And, ultimately detached from force
I will curse the gods for this gift
That which removes me from
Temporal damage and
Orbital vibrations

Perhaps, then, my fate shall be damned
Then I can laugh because She has overlooked me
And I can sigh and say
“I have had my fun
Hello, tears.”
After all
The observer’s life is one of tears

Is he not the historian?
The lonely viewer at the
Back of the cinema
Understanding the tear-jerker best of all?

Because he is the substance of solitude
And he is the emotion
Where it is absent
And therefore absent thereof

And, hovering three-hundred feet off the ground
Still rising,
I will reflect
And I will cause chaotic ripples
Among stars
Wondering aloud what it all signifies.