The Art Of The Changing Me

January cold crept into the air like a thief in the night,

But who knew what turning 18 could do?

Perhaps it might be met with either fright or delight,

Or could it be something completely new?

 

Days grew longer as I grew older,

My High School education, burnt to cinders. 

Once a roaring flame, now only a smolder.

Those Freshman fires, now simple tinders. 

 

Warmer and windier grew the days as spring sprung.

Hoodies and coats now a thing of last winter,

My final school bells had rung. 

As finals grew closer, friendships began to splinter. 

 

With Graduation quickly approaching, 

College crept into my line of sight, 

For it was time to start my life's coaching. 

Five steps and my High School journey was over fast as light. 

 

Happy and fun were the days of High School,

But, now, that reality is no more. 

What were once halls of chatter and noise, are now noisy dorm fools. 

These days, College just wants to settle the score. 

 

From never-apart friends to a text here and there, 

What ever happened to being such inspirational people?

The people may be no more but the memories I still share,

Because, after all, a flower still needs its sepal. 

This poem is about: 
Me
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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