Everything Was Perfect
Me and my friend like to go on long walks in the park
Talking about the lives we could’ve had
if we were born in a different place,
We look at the quaint houses in the streets of Beacon,
The baby-blue walls lined with halloween decorations
And the perfect backyards that remind me of a time,
The walks we took from school to go back home
Staring into the deep reds and crimsons of the flowers
That hung below streetlights,
The backpack I carried that always felt just a slight bit heavier than yesterday,
We lost ourselves in the skies on clear nights
When the grass was just tall enough
to rest by my ears without poking my face,
The family picnics on warm summer afternoons,
We were little kids that didn’t know much better
Than chasing each other
And the things we’d never attain in this life,
The aromas in the kitchen,
My mom cooking the dish I’d wished for,
She fed me with that same dainty spoon when I was too lazy to eat,
I wish
I wished for this time to last longer,
The colors of the leaves our eyes never witnessed
The sound they make when you step on them on a dreary fall day,
You’d know a thing or two about
Being stepped on all over
Time and time again,
It was the good days
They say that beyond a certain point we should stop expecting much from life,
Beyond the same old family reunions with that deafening silence
That slowly but steadily decays the bones of your
Wilted arms
It was a nice time
But I don’t know why I keep thinking about it
When it never happened
And it never will,
There were no starry skies and warm afternoons
Or unconditional love
Or fall foliage
Or a life to look forward to,
But when I walked with you in the streets of Beacon,
For brief a second
It felt like everything was perfect.
Hamza is a Contributing Writer. Email them at feedback@thegazelle.org.