Breaking Point

July 13, 2009
By Anonymous

Years ago I was a child:
Slow, short and shy and nothing more to them.
While their eyes watched, I grew
Shedding the coat of insecurity that I wore.

Never do I want to say good-bye
To all my childhood memories,
But as they watched and as I grew
The memories went away like a fog rolling in to suffocate my youth.

Growing up means leaving behind.


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This article has 1 comment.


on Jul. 20 2009 at 5:24 pm
i really love this it was so awesome, i like the strong imagery this poem has the fog with the growth together. love it love it love it.


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