Giving Up is Good for your Health

“It will be fun,” they said.

One day in, and I was already close to dead.

This adventure I was undertaking was supposed to last a week.

From my pores, sweat was starting to leak.

I was hiking up a hill to go into a cave.

Some of the girls were pulling ahead, but I was not that brave.

Nor was I in shape, according to my protesting muscles.

I jump every time any foliage rustles.

I was doing this for a good cause, I thought.

I was a sucker for a good cause, and here I was, caught.

I made it up the hill, still breathing- heavily -but breathing.

Then came the demand that left me seething.

If we had to go, we had to pee in the woods before caving.

“I refuse to experience this,” I was raving.

Then in the cave, only a quarter of the way through,

I popped my hip out and didn’t know what to do.

But, on I went.

Before long, we were out, and back down the hill we were sent.

Of course, I had to sprain the opposite ankle of the popped-out hip.

Now, I couldn’t decide on which side to limp.

“It will be fun,” they said.

Here I am, just about dead.

But I am not a quitter.

I would fight and I would not be bitter.

This extreme camping/boot camp is something I would conquer.

I did not, actually. What a shocker.

When I called my mom, I had good intention.

But then, my councilor told us something she forgot to mention.

“We are sleeping outside tonight!”

This moment is when I gave up my fight.

“Please. Take me home.” Is all I had to say.

Then, just like that, I was on my way.

I learned a valuable lesson.

Sometimes, it is better to give up and give in.

I do not have to be good at everything.

I can write, I can draw, and I can sing.

So, Mother Nature and I do not have to get along,

In order for me to be a woman, capable and strong.

I have flaws and this day helped me to embrace every single one.

Now, I have a clear view of what I find “fun”.

This poem is about: 
Me
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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