Look At Me by Jalon Copeland

LOOK AT ME

Jalon Copeland*

Look at me, look at me. I’m just an ordinary guy with a mark on my right hand, and abnormally big eyes. I feel fine with who I am, but I’m sure that you don’t. You want to be in my life, but you left to go somewhere else. You say that you love me, but you don’t even know how to explain it to me. “Because I know you” they say. Well guess what? You don’t. You don’t know my favorite color, you only know that I had a girlfriend, you don’t even bother to even ask how my day is. So, what’s the point to even explain it to you. All that I want you to do is look at me. From head to toe, from the skin that was knitted together and stayed. I want you to watch me evolve. From someone who had to figure things out bit by bit, day by day, experience from one to another. To someone who takes a step at a time as days go on, with a powerful spirit, and a not so easily broken will. So, what you came back, all that you missed was left unsaid. You know now that my favorite color is purple, you were shocked that I had a boyfriend and play for both teams, you also know now that my days were gracious as the heavens and homely as the depths of hell. I wondered why you love me till this present day. “Because I know you” he says. How can you know me when you’re not there? How can you lecture me when I’ve heard it before from a different relative? You missed out on so many things that, that one main thing could’ve shattered me and you weren’t there to even understand why. Because I know you. Because I know you? How can you know me? How can you know me Dad? How can you know me by the way I act? How can you know when I’m in a good mood is just by my smile on my face that gets unleashed with excitement? How can you know that the main thing that almost shattered me is almost losing my mother from the strong hate of other people whom despised her? Just tell me how? So, I want you to look at me. Look at me as your son. Look at me as the son that you want to know and not because you know me. Just look at me.

PANCAKE MIX

Christian Rodriguez*

The pancake mix did it all. On that day, why did it have to fall?

Her voice piercing the air from anger Overcome with frustration, hands in the air -

I should have expected this a while back, Something so small to give her a heart attack.

The exchanged screams, red eyes from crying I swear, a neighbor probably thought she was dying.

Nevertheless, dropping pancake mix turns into past mistakes Her screaming getting closer and closer to my face.

Tears now rolling down my face, teeth gritted, “I should have left years ago” I admitted. The house now so silent, creaking from what came out of my mouth, Her face a cherry red, obviously upset, she says what I dread the most

“Pack your bags. I want you out.”

GRASS

Mary C Verdosci

Grass, one of nature’s many wonders, swaying in the wind to and fro. To me, is nature’s worst blunder an undefeatable foe.

For wherever I plant the seed, with certainty this I know, I find instead that rascally weed where I want the grass to grow.

On the other hand, on hills and slopes where it is difficult to mow I find the grass there envelops all else I try to grow.

Until one day after so many attempts a new seed I did sow It promised to kill the weeds and to grow and grow and grow.

It did. Now on weekends I’ll not be free. All I do is mow.