ShopDreamUp AI ArtDreamUp
Deviation Actions
Literature Text
For A Genius Dying Young
I have always pointed out
That stars are brightest when they've died
And that the miracle, that we can still see their light
Is precious. A treasure.
You burn, not like a candle, not like a comet,
You burn like a star.
And when your fire ceases
Your light will still go on
Blessing all of us still under the same night sky—
You will be beaming down at us even after we say goodbye.
I will take the end of you
The flutter that will close your eyes
Knowing that everything bright like you
Too quickly and too unfairly
Departs from us and
Dies.
Shining, showing, growing soft
Dimming, but bright enough a torch
To Illume still the glory in the heart of you
And leave a small speck of something
Smoldering, but true—
The incidental fact
That I know
You loved me too.
Blaze, young genius, burn and bedazzle
Burnish brilliance from afar—
Bless us with your radiant star!
Resplendent, you will shame the moon,
And I will grieve you, genius boy—
Wasted
Wrested
Far too soon.
I have always pointed out
That stars are brightest when they've died
And that the miracle, that we can still see their light
Is precious. A treasure.
You burn, not like a candle, not like a comet,
You burn like a star.
And when your fire ceases
Your light will still go on
Blessing all of us still under the same night sky—
You will be beaming down at us even after we say goodbye.
I will take the end of you
The flutter that will close your eyes
Knowing that everything bright like you
Too quickly and too unfairly
Departs from us and
Dies.
Shining, showing, growing soft
Dimming, but bright enough a torch
To Illume still the glory in the heart of you
And leave a small speck of something
Smoldering, but true—
The incidental fact
That I know
You loved me too.
Blaze, young genius, burn and bedazzle
Burnish brilliance from afar—
Bless us with your radiant star!
Resplendent, you will shame the moon,
And I will grieve you, genius boy—
Wasted
Wrested
Far too soon.
Literature
A Child Again
I wish I could be a child again.
Where all I had to worry about
Were skinned knees
And cooties from boys.
I wish I would be a child again.
Where boys ran away from girls
And no one lied.
I wish I could be a child again.
Where parents were devoted
In every part of my life.
I wish I could be a child again.
When there was recess,
And fun and games.
I want to be a child again.
I want the child meant wonder.
I want the never ending hope.
I want loyalty.
I want simplicity.
I want to be a child again.
I want my innocence back.
I want to not have to worry.
I want grades that don't matter
I want time outs to be the worse punishme
Literature
I tried
I tried to count my scars,
But I couldn't tell
Where one began
And another ended.
So I tried to count the cuts,
But I couldn't, because
Blood smeared across my skin,
Connecting them like a thin,
Red veil of pain.
And so I cried.
I cried a single tear, because
When I need to cry,
I can't.
Finally, I sat down,
And put pen to paper,
Or fingers to keys.
And tried to write my emotions.
But I couldn't, because
I don't know how to tell the world
What I feel like,
When I have no right.
I looked from the blood stained tissues,
Across my torn body,
Into my own eyes, reflected perfectly by the mirror before me.
Another tear was p
Literature
Stone
"You have a stone in your heart,"
That rouses me somewhat. I look up from my book and out the window at the gray fog that's settled over everything like wet cotton. I imagine breathing it, letting it fill my lungs with gray. All at once, the room is suffocating and I push the window open and the cool air tumbles in and ruffles the pages of my book so that I lose my place.
The spell of the story unravels and some part of me aches to know that the sort of love that exists in the storybooks is never true.
She loves the lines of him.
Her.
"Are you listening?"
"… Yes," I say without much conviction.
Rainwater pools on the windowsill.
Suggested Collections
Featured in Groups
A very close friend of mine (probably the oldest I have) will be dead within the next three months....at the latest. It may come anytime.
He is a certified genius in mathematics and science and was studying at Berkeley when his first brain tumor was diagnosed. He has spent the last five years trying to beat this thing, but it's not enough.
I think of him, and the word that comes to my mind is "waste". Why would God create such a magnificent person who could very possible change the world and strike them down before they accomplish anything?
I guess I'm bitter.
Comments appreciated/
He is a certified genius in mathematics and science and was studying at Berkeley when his first brain tumor was diagnosed. He has spent the last five years trying to beat this thing, but it's not enough.
I think of him, and the word that comes to my mind is "waste". Why would God create such a magnificent person who could very possible change the world and strike them down before they accomplish anything?
I guess I'm bitter.
Comments appreciated/
© 2011 - 2024 rainonwednesday
Comments118
Join the community to add your comment. Already a deviant? Log In
It's hard to swallow but I believe the reason is that the advancement of the heats of the people who knew him as he lived and died is more important than the advancements he could have made in science and math.