Lucky Clover
It was a sunny spring morning, I was about 10 at the time, and I was swinging on a homemade swing some old friends made for us, one rope in the middle of a piece of wood, about an inch and a half thick draped over a tree branch way up in the tree. My grandfather came outside to tell me lunch was ready, so I got off the swing and started walking to the back door, I looked and saw a patch of clovers. I mentioned to my grandfather how cool it would be to find a four leaf clover and he said “Yes, it would be cool, but I bet you, you couldn’t find one. In fact I’ll give you a dollar if you do find one.” I accepted his challenge and quickly finished my lunch and darted outside because nothing would stop me from proving him wrong. After about thirty minutes of hard looking I found it, the beautiful and said to be lucky clover I was looking for. I quickly ran to show my grandfather. When he saw it he nodded handed me the dollar and said “Good job kiddo.”
All pain will eventually stop
Classic story of girl meets boy
One ends up hurt, the other destroyed
Their lives fall apart piece by piece
The pain should go away, but it only increased
How long can they go, without turning to dust
Not to much longer, that you can trust
Do you see the light fading from their eyes?
Of course you don’t silly, that’s part of the disguise
So this is the story on how they ended their pain
One rope to his neck, and a bullet to her brain
What’s your story?
Underneath our flesh and bone, I believe, is our “story,” kinda like a tree when you count the rings in its trunk. You can tell when they grew the most and when, in a way they died a little. I believe scars, and memories are not only on the skin and in our minds, but they are also inside our bodies buried deep within. Making us who we are. Now the question is...what’s your story