Only the stars by her side

The six-year-old grumbles

You can’t choose blue! You can’t choose my favorite color!

Pouting lips

Furrowing faint eyebrows

The words

“I don’t want to be typical”

Looms at the back of her growth.

The twelve-year-old laments

Why are there detentions?

Why are they controlling me?

Why aren’t they using their hearts?

Supporting heads on hands

Droopy eyes in moldy classrooms

The words

“I don’t want to be typical”

Rang like a recess bell, urging her to take flight regardless.

The eighteen-year-old ponders

Why is the quest for meaning and art undermined?

Why is depression surrounding and encroaching me?

Why are we caring less and crying more?

The words

“I don’t want to be typical”

Struck her in accordance with the clank of a wineglass

Spilling wine which would be her ink

The words

“I don’t want to be typical”

Compelled her to create

With only the stars by her side

Every faithful night.

<a href=”https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/typical/”>Typical</a&gt;

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