A Poem...

I wrote this in science class on Monday.

Untitled

How I envy you
a little girl without a care.
How you play among the trees,
the bushes,
the park is your demense,
your kingdom,
to rule as you please.
I see you in your playhouse,
the one your dad made you.
Modeled after a house from
the Victorian era.
The way you play on the swings
hour after hour,
pumping your legs higher
and higher
until you reach the trees,
temporarily becoming a role model
to kids whose parents
are teaching them to
step out of the nest,
to fly.
And when your mom rings
that great cow bell of hers,
you yell "coming!"
jump off, land barefoot in the sand
and run home to dinner
on the porch.
I remember when you
used to hide in the bushes
around your house
pretending you were a spy,
or when you would ride
your bike around the park
over and over
around and around
because your mom wouldn't let you
ride anywhere else
without her.
I see you
walking to the middle of the inlet
when the tide is out
getting stuck up to your knees
in mud.
I remember the way that
you would run
along the beach,
the one part of the inlet
where there was sand
and you would collect
pieces of oyster shells
and pottery
and store them
in a special place that
you found while exploring.
You are the only one who knows
where it is.
I remember that special
skill that you have.
You could find a friend
and play with them for hours
and never know their name
or who they really are
and you'd never see them again
but still you'd have fun.
I see you sometimes,
dancing around the trees
near your house
waving a stick
pretending to control the weather.
You used to do that a lot.
But what happened to
that little girl?
That free spirit
who believed that
she could see faeries?
You grew up
and turned into a young woman
full of teenage angst,
who cares about her looks
and her social life
more than
her imagination.
Who on the outside,
is fun and happy,
but on the inside,
is crying in pain.
You've given up complaining
about that knee injury
because you know that
nobody but you cares
even though you take comfort
in complaining.
Today you were depressed,
but you didn't say anything.
At lunch, your friends
were too busy talking about
their band
to notice you.
They didn't even say goodbye
when you left for math.
And speaking of school,
you know that your grades
are dropping,
but for some reason,
you don't care.
You used to be
a straight A student,
now you're getting
a C+ in math.
The stress from home,
and moving,
is finally getting to you,
but you don't care.
You just want to
go home.
Sleep.
Dream of that little girl
that you used to be.
I know you envy her.
I do too.
Because that little girl,
was me.