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She always hated ,
hated getting up ,
getting up in the morning ,
mornings were so sunny ,
sunny was not inside her soul ,
inside her soul was shadow ,
shadows of her long unhealed scars ,
scars so deep ,
deep like melodies unheard ,
unheard by them ,
them who does not hear the ,
the cries of her heart ,
heart which seeks home ,
home that she had ,
had the only thing ,
only thing to keep that light up ,
up at the dead of dusks ,
dusks that turned to dawns ,
dawns in which she never had anything to look forward to ,
forward to nothing but ,
but her only home ,
her only home where she sought peace ,
sought peace with a back pack on ,
a back pack hung on
her tired shoulders ,
shoulders of her were accompanied ,
accompanied with souls ,
souls that were her guardian angels ,
guardian angels with bag packs on ,
bag packs tagged with name tags ,
name tags that were spelled as
‘ f r i e n d s ’ ,
friends who saved her heart ,
heart that was protected from getting burnt more ,
more will burn a little bit more cause’, cause’ more one day to stay ,
to stay in her home ,
home that was but will never be her hideout anymore ,
anymore from the
big world out there ,
out there she had to step now ,
now because she was no more ,
no more a ‘ school girl ’ ,
school girl with past mistakes ,
mistakes and scars ,
scars but healings too ,
healings and her people ,
her people and still her firefly catching days ,
her firefly catching days
turned now to ‘ school memories ’ ,
memories that she will
always reminisce ,
reminisce about
the bag pack afternoons ,
afternoons and mornings with celeries , if lucky , chocos and milk ;
milky chalks on black boards ,
boards and
doodles of her and her friends ,
friends and hamburger fights ,
hamburger fights
and nutella bread stealings ,
stealing moments of mischiefs ,
mischievous moments
before the bell rang ,
bell rung for one last time ,
last time it is though but not a never again ,
again will she live it all ,
all inside her mind ,
mind filled with
precious everlasting memories ,
memories of her firefly catching days ,
days will come in the far future ,
future where she has to have a tough heart and just ‘ grow up ’ ,
up but she has to know ,
know that down will she never fall ,
fall if then just back into the phenakistoscope of the
school girl’s school days ,
school days that will always be there inside her ,
her because she cherished it all ,
all that made her herself ,
herself she always has to be ,
be in the world full of fake ness ,
fake ness that her unsullied school days never had ,
never had and so they will always save her ,
her from being who she is not ,
not is not the word because ,
because home is where heart is ,
heart is in her school ,
school is in her home ,
home is in deep beneath her always ,
always like the always ,
the always that Snape had said to Lily ,
Lily that gave birth to Harry ,
Harry Potter just how will never die ,
die will never her school days .
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«« Author's note : This was originally written solely for my sweet The_River_Of_Tears . It was an absolute pleasure to have been asked to write for you . »»
The last piece of this book .
YOU ARE READING
into her phenakistoscope
Poetry«« when her life was at a halt , an illusion of motion was created and in her dreamlike state , her reality and her imagination met and gave her a blurred vision , her phantasmagoria took birth where her soul saw dreams of a...
