I own NOTHING from Disney

I wrote this for my English class when we were reading To Kill A Mockingbird. (Unable to resist using a vocab word here) It is a buildingsroman (coming of age story), and a quick one-shot at that. Mostly describing how Disney affected me growing up. Enjoy.

Young. Disney fueled my life.

My internal fire dancing to childlike fantasies.

Fantasies where I could be those Disney characters,

Simply

By

Saying

I

Was.

There were no boundaries on imagination.

The burning wood was my fears,

The sputtering embers mere fragments of life to come.

The fire burned brightly,

My personal sun come alive to guide me through youth.

But, I grew older.

Less willing to play.

The lines still easy to memorize, for the characters had not changed.

I was

S

L

I

P

P

I

N

G

Farther away.

Feeling foolishly futile,

Dancing as Esmeralda

Or flying as Wendy.

My own Peter Pan story, the dying ember of a once bright fire.

Older. Disney still my light.

The black wood charred, but not dead, as the fire was.

Embers left behind in the dust

Glowing faintly.

Fighting against the tide of an ocean to BIG

To conquer.

Nobody helping.

An inward struggle.

Reviews are welcome, no flames please