To The Gravel
7 roses in her hand.
7 roses that cannot stand.
1 rose falls to the gravel.
The single rose becomes unraveled.
I looked at the rusty old swing of the playground. This is the playground my mother always took me to. This was where I learned to swing and skip. This was where the only slide I had ever been on was. The sun was shining and somewhat warming the cool air. I sat on the swing and swayed back and forth. I started dragging my feet across the gravel. I slowly pulled out the single rose I had brought. I then noticed that a few petals were hanging by a thread and others had already fallen. The rose was becoming undone.
I bent down while still sitting in the swing. More and more petals were falling to the gravel. I gently laid down the rose. The fall wind blew slightly and carried away a few petals. After that I swung for what seemed like minutes, but I soon realized they were hours. Once again, one of my last days has gone so quickly and I can never get it back.
I dug my feet into the rocks to stop myself from moving any more. I stood and left. It was once again nighttime. I was once again, exhausted. When I finally walked across my quaint little town, and reached the house, I decided it was time to try to talk to someone. I wanted someone who I could try to connect to. I walked into the house and went to Sydney's room. She was the youngest. She had captivating and innocent bright blue eyes to match her barbie blond hair that surrounded her head in long spiraling curls that looked like a halo. I said hello and she looked up from her coloring book to look at me with a shocked expression. I had never tried to communicate with anyone here. I then tried to explain to her that I just wanted to talk to someone and have a friend who got the chance to get to know me. She looked up to me with excited friendliness. And we began to talk.