Magazine, website & books written by teens since 1989

I remember

I am eating a Watermelon, tasting sweet summers, bittersweet nights, tear filled days at Grandma's and Grandpa's house. Where I could romp and play. Where Grandma would listen to music I couldn't understand. Where I could pretend a box was a car and where I remember how Grandpa would eat the Watermelon. Using the base as a bowl and eating it with a spoon.
Now at age 14 I harldy ever eat a watermelon and I hardly ever visit Grandpa and Grandma.



Post a Comment

Be the first to comment on this article!




Site Feedback