Sparse raindrops fall as the young boy is flying

past on his skateboard. Where to go?

  A lazy afternoon drags on slowly as the tide of the sea

recoils and crashes down again. As the lifeguard waits

patiently for the beach day to end,

the young boy ponders the end of summer, pure doom.

Skating to a friend’s house: “I’ve heard 7th grade is going to be our doom”

As if when the kites stop soaring the seagulls will stop flying

as well. It only started yesterday, how is it almost over today?

His friend’s mother comes in with two nice tall glasses of lemonade. Life will go on. Harder challenges will come,

heavy burdens sit like unlifted weights collecting dust.

All to be washed away by the disinterested sea.

The sun will always shine no matter your troubles,

when will you see that?

Life is constant plight, but it will not be your doom.

Moonlight shines bright on the two friends, one waits

for the other to fall asleep. Then he lifts off flying

into the night sky. Still nowhere to go.

He will return from the stars when the sun rises for the new day

I’m flying high not knowing where to go

The sea below me sparkles, its deep darkness waits

One day soon, I’ll plummet to my doom