At first when I was three all I did was sleep
About three feet tall I couldn’t even see
on the counter the Mac n’ cheese.

Then I turned six everything just switched
I sat in a seat and listened to a pen click
Tick.tick.tick.tick that’s how the pen went
And I really don’t want to hear that again

Next I’m like ten I moved to Michigan
Met some new friends now I have to start over again
I hate the seasons it’s cold and colder.

Now I’m fifteen and I’m getting older
Bolder, with broader shoulders
With the luck of a three-leafed-clover
This next line is when the poem is over…

Back again like a boomerang
I made this and I know its kind of strange
Kind of lame not deranged
Not lacking in my membrane
Like minesweeper I bring stress to your brain
You say good day I hope you have the same…