A Summative Assessment

Too much and too recently have I seen layers of laptops faced by faces absorbed. Minds consumed by the colourful lights. Forgetting our efforts for purpose and against feeling hopeless. Investing life’s answers in completing degrees and only dreaming at night. Of the confusions of youth and ambition of greed. Far away from lives frustrated by wants and wants ignorant to needs. I cannot forget my mothers smile on that distant day when I saw her cry. Letters to leave and eyes that still scream. Leaving, when it was a word wondered and not a memory lost. A long life lived and frequently squandered has long been and gone long by since leaving home and losing that life. Home now halls endured and flats inhabited. Once battles over dishes. Once small. Now pitched against mice and taken to mould. Stress but stress this, you are not alone.

 

Too many dark days defined by too much silence that leave questions unanswered like unnecessary kindness. Existences defined by sacrificed time. To a chair in the library. An object of worship. Greatness calculated by a floor chosen and shoes selected. Why is it now that the adults look back at me? The idols my neck snapped to when my neck was last free. When I was a boy and not an adult. Not as I am now. Did they not know better like I had believed? Sets shared in their wishing for some else, some thing. 

 

It is fine if you do not laugh and rather cry. If the world feels false and in passage grows tight. These are signs that come coupled with life. With a desire for passion and hope to smile. Those that should worry are those that thrive. That feel home in the absence of a natural light. In the glare of the gleam of the library sky. The water they grant us. The water you watch at as I arrive, as if upon your sacred ground, as if tall grass were granted sight, you perk up and stare, assailing my movement you remain quiet. What is it that you think? I sometimes feel that if I want and if I try I can hear your thoughts and feel your might. The mights have been had you made more mistakes. The mights not be here, where you now remain. The mights that move you forward. That you can’t see and always feel. Sometimes in the morning when you are at your purest. When the worries of the day have not yet reached your face. Or late in the evening in the ill of the dark, sick and contagious. That sinks. Enrages. 

 

Essays that like love are easier talked of than completed. Firsts more commonly spoken of than achieved. In all your rush and amongst your thought, do you believe there is time to breathe? In and out and only for a moment but essential to survive. First breath. First sight. When your bones are cold and your flat is heated. What crosses your mind. Is your speaking curt and harsh or are you kind. To the people you see and the challenges you meet. Shifting feet. One in front of the other and towards something greater. You look so beautiful in this light. The same blaring down on you right now. That calls you to action despite the arms you lack and a will you lost. The spirit, not the name. One which you have for a long time lacked and forgot only yesterday, many yesterdays ago. Stress but stress this, you are not alone.