299 of 455

Write now Article Tools

I saw the stars twinkling above my half-drunken smile tonight. The air itself here can drunken - for it is so full of intoxication - Huron County being the highest concentration of drunk drivers in Ontario, that is.

I walked home from a party filled with beer, shooters, drunken conversation and tears. An odd combination, so it seems. The stars are freakin' beautiful tonight. I am consistently telling myself that it will only be a little while before I find myself in the arms of the city again, and my eyes will miss those stars that once shaun in those skies above... the skies that I never again will see once I am in the smoke.

It will be replaced by towering skyscrapers, planes, clouds, and pollution. But that is the price to be payed. I would glady pay even more than that to escape from the suffocation of such a sheltered existance here in small-town Ontario. Or all of Canada.

I have the stars on my wrist to remind me of my roots - of where I grew up and first learned of life - where I met my friends, lost them to distance and different paths taken, and left on my own two feet regardless of not knowing how or why or what I was doing.

I have the stars to remind me of where I was, and to remind me of what once was, and is no longer.

Goodbye, small town.

Learn more about this author, Monster.
Click here to send this author comments or questions.

Add your voice

Know something about Poetry: Saying goodbye?
We want to hear your view. Write now!