This is just something I’ve written for the annual school anthology.
Life Is…
Life is a bowl of fruit.
And I’m the brown banana.
Life is a competition.
And I’m the one who always gets there last.
Life is catching the bus.
I’m the one who’s always running
To miss it by only four heartbeats.
Life is a deck of cards.
My friend is the Ace of Hearts.
The Jack of Spades,
Preparing war against King of Clubs.
The King of Hearts, crazy.
Ten of Diamonds, no less precious.
Three of Spades and Nine of Hearts,
Mixture of odd and plain.
And me? I’m the joker.
Life is like a mask.
Mine is gold, covering my right eye
Which has purple mascara on it.
What is yours like? Silver? Blue?
Life is like being on the bus…
when I don’t miss it.
Then I’m scared to get off, or on.
The stops are minutes, days, weeks, years.
The older people are, the sooner they get off.
I hope I don’t forget my pass.
Life is conflict.
We don’t need to go looking for it, ‘Mr President’.
It’s right here in our own backyard.
Life is athletics
I can’t jump hurdles.
Shotput goes five centimetres.
Discuses whap me in the head.
A javelin practically skewered me.
Always last in sprinting.
Can’t jump high or far enough.
Life is sport carnivals (such joy).
People judge you by your ability in them.
And you wonder why I hate them.
Want me to list the reasons?
Life is priced.
At least the air we breathe isn’t taxed.
Then again, they’ll manage to find a way…
I hope they don’t.
It’s bad enough.
Life is like a play.
And I’m the actor who forgets their lines.
Life is like a painting
And I’m the weird grey splodges nobody ever liked.
Life is like the imprint of ink on paper.
I’m the grey bits you get when you smudge it.
See that jacaranda tree?
That’s life.
Growing when it rains.
Joy. Happiness. Ease.
Dying when there’s drought.
Sorrow. Pain. War.
What is it all about?
Joypaingleewarlovehatedelightsorrow…
Life is like a book.
Am I the character who provides comic relief?
Am I the hero, wielding Excalibur?
Am I the heroine, stringing a longbow?
Am I the nerdy scientist, using a mallet?
Who are you?
Are you the character who’s quiet?
Or are you the friendly, bouncy character?
Are you the character who’s the boss?
Are you the ever-faithful sidekick?
Are you the one whose plans always go awry?
Who am I? Who are you? Who are we?
Will we know when we reach the end?
Will we leave before that?
Do you know?
Life is a question.
Don’t ask me what the answer is.
I’ve forgotten it- and the question.
Now, where did I find them in the first place?
Life is a wish, a dream
I know because of that old saying
“Wishes aren’t horses, or beggars would be riding.”
They’re right… sort of.
The beggars fall off.
I like it. Very describive of life… in several ways.