A Collection of Poems (Publishing)

changes.

12 years old,

frail and shy;

wouldn't talk to anyone

or look them in the eye.

there i was,

careless and free;

i didn't put much thought

into why no one liked me.

i walked around the neighborhood

that i loved so much,

and i sung with the birds

and i sung to myself.

16 years old,

still frail and shy;

don't talk to anyone

that passes me by.

there i am,

careful and trapped;

trapped in my mind,

hurt by societies attacks.

i walk around the neighborhood

that i've grown so much to hate;

and i groan to the birds

i groan to myself.