Young Writers Society

I was walking down the city streets
on a smelly, drawling Christmas Eve.
Through lust and loss I suffered the last year
and uncovered my greatest, most potent fear.

I'm afraid of change.
Yes, that's quite a range.
But missed opportunities are my forte,
a little wall in my mind called worry.

So the greatest thing I did see,
on my walk on this mucky, dusty eve
was a hovering trailer on the curb
with a family looking most likely Serb.

A man on a ladder spoke foreign tongues
as he ascended the gleaming metal rungs.
My inattention was my fall
as my walking slowed down to a loll.

But no matter my instance or my pace,
the trailer door bashed in my face.
I fell to the ground, clutched my nose
seeing stars and smelling rose.

I learned importantly on that eve
that opened doors can cause much grief.