She laid there on that old park bench
Watching the white tufts floating across
The painted blue sky
Like the balloons that have floated away
From a child’s hands
Everything seemed still,
Yet still in constant motion
She felt smaller the more they picked up pace
Because she realized how miniscule her 17-year-old life was
She sat up on that old park bench
And monitored the rambunctious cars as they whizzed by
That person had a life that she had no idea of
And her life may never collide with theirs
And the idea that there are billions of lives
That she will never come into contact with
Will continue to move forward
And when she stops and watches the world
The world will always continue to move as well
Leaves will fall off trees
The wind will flow gently
And waves will continue to crash
And she realizes as she sits on that park bench
Nothing can stop this movement