*Magnify*
SPONSORED LINKS
Creative fun in
the palm of your hand.
Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/1502782
Printer Friendly Page Tell A Friend
No ratings.
Rated: 13+ · Sample · Personal · #1502782
Just a saddened older brother of mine.
Older Brothers
~You look a little like something~
"I'll feed you like a dog my little mister."



He is heavenly empty like his bag of Cheetos that he's eaten for breakfast, lunch, and dinner at his side. A manifestation of an empty nation. Indescribable. Open-mouthed sleepless nights drives his broken television outside in a corner, hold up by the ignorant police soldiers that know not of war but injustice because they are in the system just for the paper plate template green non shared money.

"Sir, you know nothing of crime."

Not starving from his favorite meal (bag of Cheetos and Lays chips anyone?) His sad glazed eyes fixated on his 9 year old television with the crust of cheddar all over his face. He doesn't smile when the camera shines on his face. But when this little mister does, it's just a small thin line up his from his jaw line. He is brown skinned light brownie that doesn't sound too good. His hair shortened like his life span on a run from the ravenous dog that barks with fleshy flaps running down their mouths.

He is small like the anorexic Beta fish in my tank (unfed for more than 3 weeks since my vacation time on a fairy far away land when I fought pirates in search for treasure and hardy meals) Tall and Beethoven butler like, his is silent like the secret hawk that flew over my school the other day when I was happily day dreaming of random colored bunnies on my home. He smells of mild milkweed and buttermilk with a side of onions and mustard. Sour, teary dry, and fresh like the new pair of clothes given to him during April Fools day as an act of a joke. (It's not very funny, a selfish fake miser would say for show and tell)

Camera shy, empty tables, and caterpillar eyed mister sits quietly doodling huge warfare's and Frankenstein monsters. Abandoned and alone with only stacks of unopened chips on top of his bed, he procrastinates. He is denied by nail polishes and rough army guards of the future. Slapped and blamed. He is the rare fish in the sea that can't dive away from his insecurities and false faults that society hits him for (You've done no wrong my little mister)

He just wants me to text him.

© Copyright 2008 thexflowerxgirl (theflowergirl at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/1502782