THE STEGER Prize For Poetry
. (Dot)
by Paul Kim
Around noon, the busiest time
sitting outside on the top of War Memorial Chapel
looking down at the Drill Field
I see various Dots vastly driven to brighten their futures —
Some walking to the cafeteria,
Some having a conversation with others,
and some running anxiously to the classrooms.
As I separate myself from those dots for a moment,
I wanted to interrupt all of them
by screaming the questions that I struggle with
as my iPod plays Boulevard of Broken Dreams
to support my sense of emptiness:
Why are you so concerned about the future?
Do you remember all the resolutions
you made in life to improve yourself?
If you do, let’s say the achievement indeed occurred,
and you’ve become a better person.
How long did the enjoyment last until it was
overtaken by another resolution?
When was the saddest time of your life?
Maybe like the death of your grandmother
whom you dearly cherished;
You committed with tears
to never forget her.
Well, when was the last time you did think about her?
Do you remember the pain of 911?
Every channel turned into breaking news
as two signs of world peace collapsed.
It was the day when you joined hands with your classmates
for prayers to promised the forever patriotism.
By the way, this nation is in your current prayer list, right?
What about your relationships?
At first, family and friends were
your only necessities to live.
I mean you even defined them as love.
However, you realize that love also increases its requirements,
and later it turns into a never-ending desire.
Isn’t it strange that the impacts in your life
are now just the memories that you have to be reminded to remember?
As my iPod finishes the song,
I conclude my mindspeech with sighs:
Future seems abstractly valuable
and we tried so hard to make it impressive.
However, in the end,
It’s just a moment;
nothing but a small Dot in our momentary minds.
Before I even invest my Dot,
I first desire to understand the true purpose –
other than the world’s demands –
of seeking a “better” future.
Because right now,
I’m lost without guidance
that tortures me to live in my Dot of yesterday.
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