A poem I wrote in Junior High, and now another looking back on it. |
When I was in Junior High, I was given the assignment to write about my friends. Now, as a high schooler, I've written another contrasting it. JUNIOR HIGH: We are a box of crayons, An assortment of shapes and sizes and colors. Claire- The green one that looks perfect but, thankfully, isn’t, Becca- red, tall, loud, caring, not perfect, but close enough. Black: Rylee, the sure one, never wrong, simple, but true. I am blue, sometimes light, quiet, but I can be dark, too, and LOUD. My paper wrapper may be ripped, but I am solid inside. Sarah- yellow. At the side of the box, forgotten on rainy days, but always there to cheer up the picture. No matter what we are called- friends, or crayons, we are better together. Unlike some, we have a box that holds us tight, together. Friends. HIGH SCHOOL: We lay scattered across the floor the light can't find us any more we are lost among all the others shades of gray and black that don't want to make a rainbow that are broken somehow I'm expected to color my own picture but without purple and red and yellow I don't know how so I try to find the rest of us but it's hard when our box has been ripped to peices they don't understand we are each our own color, but we need each other I may be bigger now but that doesn't mean I'm stronger and I see the others start to fade away their brilliance is lost is the sea of darkness and I'm afraid I, too will be lost weak alone a rainbow without color |