Vision of Red

I always look down, instead of looking up, I always look down at the feet on the ground, for unknown to anyone, there are feet that I look for everyday since the start of my school, and upon that ground I find my anchor to save me from what I may do.

After the second bell I race out of my seat, I rush out of the room, and then walk down the hall quietly. I look down at the ground, at the people’s feet. Yet a certain pair of feet do I seek. Every day without fail after that second bell I see them round the corner and walk near me.

A pair of bright red laces, tied up in a knot, a pair of bright red laces that slowly managed to twist my heart.

And as they get closer I feel my pulse race, unbeknownst to everyone I start to flush in the face. My checks fill, like the color that I loved, and sweat starts to come, in little tiny drops.

The laces get closer and closer to me. And like my daily ritual I start to deeply breathe.

Then they pass by. Not knowing the affect they invoke or why. They pass by, yet each day they still give me hope.

I dare not look at the face. To look up while I walk. For if I do the ritual will break, and I fear that my red laces may be lost. 

This poem is about: 
Our world
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

Comments

Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.
 

 

If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741