In primary school, when I showed off my writing
My parents and teachers said it was surprising,
How someone so little as I was so skilled
And my cup of pride was constantly filled.
When I showed off my poems in middle school,
My friends all told me that they were pretty cool,
They told me they liked how they flowed like a river,
And only requested things I could deliver.
In high school my writing got better each day,
But some people told me some things I could change,
I liked the way I had written them just fine,
But some seemed to forget they weren’t theirs but mine.
Now that I’m older they expect more from me,
But this isn’t as easy as it might seem,
I can’t deliver everything that they ask,
They are giving me much more difficult tasks.
I’m trying my best, but they seem disappointed,
And writing has started to fill me with dread,
This image they’ve painted of me is too perfect,
There is no possible way I can reflect it,
My version of me will never measure up,
I look down and see that there’s no pride in my cup.
I started writing poetry in elementary school and I just got back into it last month. Most of my poems aren’t about things I’m personally experiencing, but a few of them are. I mostly write for fun because I enjoy it, but sometimes I write to express how I feel.https://interstellarpoetry.wordpress.com
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