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Jordan Deyo Poem
Floating through the air in a field
I am being pulled into the ground
I am a seed becoming a flower
I am supposed to sprout, to look like all the other flowers in my field
But I don't look like the other flowers
My pedals are different
My color is different
My height is different
I’m not the same type flower
I rip my pedals off
one by one
they fall to the ground
until my leaves follow suit
now my roots detach from the soil
the wind blows me to the ground
I’m a flower becoming irrelevant
Floating above the field, not even in the ground
Copyright © Jordan Deyo | Year Posted 2015
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Details |
Jordan Deyo Poem
Once in the spotlight a dancer danced.
She twirled and leaped all over the stage, doing what she was taught.
She finished her last leap and twirl, then took a bow.
She thought she had done great.
She thought she did what they wanted.
No. She was wrong.
She was told her back wasn't straight enough, and her leaps were passe.
She took the hits of criticism to heart, and left with tears steaming down her face.
Once in a studio a singer sang
He hit the high notes, and sang with soul, doing what he was taught.
He hits his last note ans smiles.
He was proud of his work.
He looks through the glass for eyes of reassurance.
No. He was wrong.
He saw eyes of disappointment and they told him he wasn't good enough.
He took the criticism to heart, and left with his head dragging on the ground.
Once in a room of silence there was a kid.
He thought about his failures, and cried with a burning hate.
He couldn't do what they wanted.
He couldn't please anyone.
He felt worthless.
Yes. He was right.
He thought back to all the disappointment and everything he did wrong.
The thoughts broke his heart, and he left with blood streaming down his wrist.
All that's was left was a note that read,
"I'm sitting here in my room, hoping this will make them happy."
Copyright © Jordan Deyo | Year Posted 2015
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