I have opened the doors,
And undrawn the curtains.
Walked freely on the floors,
And stopped being hidden.
Now, I stand.
In front of my demons,
They wanna pick a fight.
But I'm not raising my fists.
They're punching hard,
But I'm still living.
They're beating me down,
But they're not winning.
YOU ARE READING
The Thoughts and Poems from the Mind of a 14-Year-Old Girl
PoetryI'm just a teen dealing with life One Step After Another. So, enjoy these crappy limericks, verses, and rhymes. I hope they keep you company. One page at a time.
