I have a poetry class this year so I'll post the poems I write here and hopefully improve.
How hard is it?
To have the world within the reach of your finger tips,
the wind dancing you around,
the birds singing to you.
Your own personal song.
And in what seems like minutes,
you are pulled back into the harshness of reality.
Where work is forced upon your hands,
the hands that were once free.
How hard is it?
To go from everything to nothing in such little time.
From what seemed like heaven,
To unruly hours of stress and frustration.
How hard is it?
To be locked inside a cage,
after being able to have the most wondrous adventures.
To soar high above,
And then forced to clip your wings.
