Painting The Clouds

• Georgia Mundy, Grade 10
• Poetry
• 2022

Sometimes I find it hard to breathe,
I’m breathing through mint covered metal,
I’m a robot that’s breaking and rusting.
Sometimes I see the sky and wonder who’s lighting it up that day,
I wonder when I’ll be painting the colours of the clouds,
If I could make them, green, green like the trees, forests and nature I live to camp through.
Green like my favourite colour, green like jealousy,
I have jealousy,
For people that live happily,
I wonder if that time will come, by my own choice or from a design flaw in me.
I’m sick and dying but it doesn’t really matter till I’m dead, right?
It’s not a big problem, just eat the food, just get out of bed, just do your work,
just, just, just.
Maybe we aren’t all made to live,
Maybe life isn’t for everyone,
Maybe some of us are better painting the clouds.