by Maia Wheeler
City Not Spoken
City of sorrow.
It is turned to dust. Never seen, taken away.
Once love, but never grown.
You feel it, but don’t see it.
Stomped to pieces by the above.
To be taken care of, but destroyed out of pity to make the better, better.
Maybe forgotten, but seen daily.
Taken to waste.
Living among the rest of its kind.
The harder it tries, the higher the better goes.
Higher and higher, more and more.
It will never be replaced in sorrow, but in captivity.
The sun shines over the blue sky creating the golden crisp color over the melted mountain tips.
Swallowing the golden rays of the slightly crispy golden turned over biscuit sun.
Chasing butterflies by children’s skin darkened in the sun by the rays of the harsh sunshine.
Flowers peeking through to welcome the sun from its night's long rest.
Basking In the sun watching the clouds wisp away like moments happening.
Yellowing sunflowers hold the seeds the birds eat as the sun watches over its land.
The sun sits over us making the animals able to be happy with overwhelming joy.
You live for moments, you die for moments. You create moments of your own. You watch yourself draw closer to who you are. You lose your thoughts and move on. You lose touch of yourself. Getting farther to what being yourself is. You never feel right in your own skin, but feel right being you. It makes the air thinner and easier to breathe. It slowly is taken away, but all you can say is, how. How did it come to this—how did I become this person?
You are finally the person you are. The person you created.
Finally finding yourself and where you fit in. Your weapon in the battle of life is your willingness to be yourself and never give up.
All I can say is I am me. I am the person that I always wished was someone else, but I am myself and who I am willing to be.
You are you. No one can take that simple phrase away. You are who you are because you are unique and are embracing yourself in this battleground of life.