Magazine, website & books written by teens since 1989

Summer Child

Summer came like cinnamon,
Warm yet a bit wild,
All my friends were hanging out,
For we know we are not child.

To the lake we went,
Swimming, splashing and having a grand time,
Our parents thought us slightly foolish,
But we said we were fine.

Being young but also old,
We forever had fun,
Never to be trifled with,
Getting dark tans in the warm sun.

We never wondered what was the day,
Nor did we know the hour,
So when autumn came,
All we had turned sour.

School came too quickly,
We solemnly said,
Sleep became important,
Early we had to exit our beds.

Good-bye to summer,
Good-bye to the inner child,
Summer left like cinnamon,
Warm and a bit wild.





Post a Comment

Be the first to comment on this article!

bRealTime banner ad on the left side
Site Feedback