May 18, 2009
By amber phillips BRONZE, Chicago, Illinois
amber phillips BRONZE, Chicago, Illinois
3 articles 0 photos 6 comments

Behind closed doors
Nobody knows what they know

They sit there and sit, and sit and sit
You know when it’s time for them to bloom

You can smell it in the air
But you wonder: will they make it?

Teenagers are like flowers
They grow and grow and grow

Never go back to the past
But look ahead to the future

How long will this be?
Will they remember their past?

Maybe, maybe not
Who knows? Who cares?

As you watch them grow and become close but farther from you
You cry

You touch them, but then they vanish.
Vanish into thin air
They come as they please

And wish they could leave
They leave you there to die

Will they come back?
Maybe. Maybe not

Who cares? Who knows?
You say you do

But do you really?

The author's comments:
most teenagers does this

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