I sat on the metal school bench
Thinking.
Hard.
Why had I wasted my time?
Sitting wasn’t going to help.
I jabbed a meatball on my red plastic plate.
I had been young, foolish and to happy
To understand,
That it was all down hill from here
I looked up.
I missed her.
Trying hard to stay focused
For I was telling a story.
In fifth grade
I had met my best friend.
(We weren’t very good friends then)
I had gone through the early stages of adolescence.
I was adapting.
Right.
I made mistakes with her.
Every recess after I cried.
Sobbing.
Pleading.
Waiting.
Eventually I got the nerve to say sorry,
Wiping every tear away,
Those tasteless tears were gone.
For they were useless.
I had become her best friend.
No more tears to shed on my melancholy mistake
I was happy.
As the rest of the year moved on,
I could not wait till sixth grade.
Until she told me she wouldn't be at my school
I had pressed on that memory for two years now.
I looked down a my lunch
And took 1 last bite before
A single tear fell down my cheek.
I was sad.
For she was gone.
Away.
Forever.
I stand alone.
In this white darkness.
Full of happy people.
All.
Except for me.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem