Like a Basketball

A poem my student, Asia, wrote with me today :*)

She has these random words, adjectives, adverbs and literary devices and so on that we have to use in this poem :) lol. Let's see how well we did :) after all, we had fun :) Bounce!

Life is basketball.

Love is like the game.

You desperately fight.

You torturously fall.

No one is to blame.

A mammoth blocks your way,

humongous, ferocious.

In the game, you must stay

You're losing. It's obvious,

But you just keep going.

You sprint, slip and slide,

Knowing you might die,

Fear, inside, you hide.

You just have to try,

hold your head up high.

Bang! the ball hits the floor.

Your bold heart starts thumping.

You're not scared anymore.

It really is your choice,

to bounce back, or to fall.

(Like a Basketball...)

you walked away from me again..I dont know how we got to where we are now, so apart. i saw it wrong i guess. you want me to do something i just cant. yea.. I didnt tell you, how would you know. what a thing to do when i feel so far from you than ever..ride a bike. what does that show?

you want to be free..alone.. on the road..away.. while I'm still here..right where i was when we argued. True, i said i wanted to go..but i couldnt. You should have known better. 'Course you didn't.

Is this how its gonna end? cracks.. which grow bigger and bigger..now you on the other end, rode away. Me, looking at this space between us. right in front of me..

i need you so much now and you dont even know.. or care enough. Its too much for you.. yes.. for me too. "I'll never leave you baby." hurts, just thinking about it. you know why? because more than twice, you just did.

Same Old Story: Fragments of thoughts.

There is a reason for everything right?
I believe so. Today I looked at myself in the mirror when I washed my hands. I stopped and looked at my face for a little longer. Not to see if I look good or anything, simply to see how my feelings inside were painted on my face.

This pair of eyes that people used to think as sad had never really appeared so to me as it did today. It begs people to understand..to stop and take a good look at why it is so. Honestly no one has ever really done that until I met you. I fully realized it today, a few minutes just before I started writing this. You really love me and these eyes. Sometimes you don't understand them, other times you can't see them. Despite all that, you love them and you love me. I am more than glad i have you. and yes, i love you too.

My eyes aren't as bold as its color. They are actually weak and fragile. Words are most treacherous of all. They pierce like a knife. I almost forgot how it feels when words stab. The pain penetrated. Tears ran down. same old story.

I need you with me now. not possible, I know.
you are far away. I wish that sentence I wrote was not true. Sadly, it is.

There's nothing good about being twenty-five or older. Growing old is not pleasant. Same old story. yes, again. It sucks when you feel like you stop growing but Time keeps adding up your age. to me, One good thing about growing old is that people give less shit about what you do. Not always tho. yes, its annoying.

There must be a reason why when you 'grow up' we should go build your own life, go away from your family and start living on your own. Yes, the older you become, the harder you find to be around people who used to teach you, raise you or whatever. If you feel that, it's time to move out and start your own story. Write your own page, no theme or plot set for you. Write whatever you want down the page. After all it's your own book. your own life. your own days in this world.
go live.