So, I've been SUPER busy lately with a whole bunch of tests and things so I thought I would just post this poem. It's not my greatest and maybe its pretty bad, but I would love feed back and response. Thanks!
They told me, in the fifth grade, that “growing up” was a sign of maturity. I have boys on my bus to prove them wrong. But growing up isn’t all its advertised to be. Like every other kid I’ve dreamed of this world, and now I want to travel back in time. I used to read poems like this and I didn’t understand (and sometimes I still don’t), but I slightly get it now. I used to think I could only cry when a B was my biggest problem, but now, that’s the least of my worries. When someone loves you and you don’t love them back or you love them, but they love someone else-its my new reality, its my real life now. Its not as fun to be considered “grown up”. Now, I grow apart from my friends because we’re not the people we used to be, people change. History cannot repeat itself. I try to end my poems with resolution in revelation, but I can’t, not this time.