Riding your bike down the street
Trying to escape the Suburbs
You can taste freedom as you break the barriers of the wind
Passing all these white picket fences
Reminds you of your childhood
To your lemonade stands from riding your first bike
What changed?
Don't look back or think, just keep running
Passing all these fences
They look like a flip book and the memories are the images
It tells a story..
But what if it's not the story you want told?
You finally escape the suburbs, you look back and last thing you see are all the fences.
YOU ARE READING
Maddy grace poetry
PoetryI'm only 17 and have always wanted to write poetry and prose. I will be posting daily collections of my poems.
