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27 September 2001 @ 09:50 pm
Life is Like a Weasel Ball  
*That poem I said something about earlier...

I walk by the toy store in the mall
Bright, florescent lights blinking in the dim darkness
Enticing my inner child to come inside
And play
I stop and admire the brilliant pink, green, and yellow packaging
Catering to a youth's imagination
On the display table in front of the doors
A mechanical ball buzzes and rolls indefinitely
Forever spinning, until that grim day when the reality of death
And ending
Snatches its life and energy
Leaving it motionless
Affixed to the plastic sphere is
A small, stuffed effigy of a weasel
Forever attempting to grasp and hold
Something that will perpetually slip through his tiny fingers
They will dance eternally
Until the store shuts it's doors
And shutters its windows
When a clerk will come
And flip the switch to quiet the toy
The simple toy
the infantile, puerile, immature toy
And as I walk away
I try not to think about my life

*What my poetry class thought:
- WeaselBalls should be made into a TV show- W.D.S.
- A very, ahh...unique perspective. ^_~ I like it >) Hehe ^^ -Sarah (little drawing and "Chibi Rei liked it too")
- Your such a Luna sprite so visual (fancy sig)
- You make me very curious about this whole aspect of this part of life I know nothing about. Very interesting.... -Jessica M.
- You have good use of vocab. good DICTION. -LW
- I liked the imagrey
- ~*Nice descriptions, interesting comparisons~ LaReasa

I tried to type up the comments exactly as they were written ^__^;; Hence any poor grammar or spelling...
 
 
Current Mood: artistic
Current Music: 'Pay the Man'- Offspring