Orange Soda

Artwork by Charlie Robertson

Orange soda on steaming cement pavements, 

Broken skin and fleshy Band Aids 

Screaming voices and home-cooked meals. 

Dilapidated yards of dirt and gold – castles of broken wood and black tarp. 

School events and grungy medals – your pride and joy, 

Soggy sandwiches of wilted lettuce and cooked butter, worth it though,  

for the energy fix on the green, green oval. Friendship circles and daisy chains, a pure unrestrained laugh of joy in the arms of the grass strands, now tinged yellow by the sun and uprooted by rough black shoes. 

Growing pains begin and unveil your eyes, the youth you once possessed is growing shorter as the years become longer.  

Secret spots for first kisses, first failures, first hopes, first dreams, such a place where childhood can rest its weary head and stay alive for just a little bit longer,  

Soon they are lost to the bumps of stress lines, and seeping skin.  

Bitter coffee seeds on cold industrial cement, 

Pinstripe suits and loud heckling, pre-cooked meals, and empty living rooms. 

Youth tastes bittersweet, like open wounds before they scar, now they are a reminder of your juvenility, later they became a simple, nostalgic presence.