“The Park”

I really am in a movie:
My flowery dress, my wild hair,
The leather journal in my hands,
A different look upon my face.
On a hidden bench by a large bush
I look on to life around me
And my heart calms to an almost undetectable speed.
The birds behind me keep going on
Like the group of school children who jump loudly
And skip on to their teacher.
Splotches of sunlight, here and there.
A woman on a bike passes
And looks at me weirdly
As if she’s never seen a girl with a notebook before.
Perhaps she never has.
The world should be ashamed.
At least the couple that sits by me doesn’t seem to notice.
They understand better,
My romantic painted world against theirs.
Like them, I don’t want to leave.
Like them, I’m going to have to,
To go on with my life.
Sunlight hits one more time,
And the garden becomes ten shades greener.
I hear a mother whispering to her child.
Then, even in this paradise,
I think of someone.
The magic’s lost.
It’s time to leave.

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