All Nonfiction Bullying Books Academic Author Interviews Celebrity interviews College Articles College Essays Educator of the Year Heroes Interviews Memoir Personal Experience Sports Travel & CultureAll Opinions Bullying Current Events / Politics Discrimination Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking Entertainment / Celebrities Environment Love / Relationships Movies / Music / TV Pop Culture / Trends School / College Social Issues / Civics Spirituality / Religion Sports / Hobbies
- Summer Guide
- College Guide
- Author Interviews
- Celebrity interviews
- College Articles
- College Essays
- Educator of the Year
- Personal Experience
- Travel & Culture
- Current Events / Politics
- Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking
- Entertainment / Celebrities
- Love / Relationships
- Movies / Music / TV
- Pop Culture / Trends
- School / College
- Social Issues / Civics
- Spirituality / Religion
- Sports / Hobbies
- Community Service
- Letters to the Editor
- Pride & Prejudice
- What Matters
Don't Look Back
Sorrow is a familiar feeling
(though not very appreciated).
Where the lights dim much too soon
to see what is beyond the
thoughts that come before the explanation.
I’m doing a lot of self-wallowing this year.
Thirteen years I’ve lived with self-hatred.
And the sighs keep growing heavier today
with masses of downward glances.
Masses of downward glances
fall onto my feet.
and make it harder for me to walk;
(weighing me down,
making me sink into the moist earth).
But the strength in my heart is
fighting the frustration,
for though they were my comfort
formerly, today I noticed myself
noticing them and turned away.
(Looking down all the time gets tiresome.)
Lifted my head.
Today a raindrop trickled past my ear
and whispered (almost inaudibly),
that in the distance
it tasted lonely winds with no one to feel
them blow their soft breezes on.
I feel that I would love
to visit them
and dance between their gusting caresses
(be swept up in leaf whirlwinds),
and fall into their welcoming breaths.