The Move

Last year of high school,

Wanting to leave,

Sick of the drama,

Sick the pain.

 

Everyone knew me,

I knew them,

We all shared history,

For over twelve years.

 

Sick of the drama,

Sick of the pain,

Sick of the ugliness,

Shown in vain. 

 

Now it was time to leave,

Go to a new place,

Excitement filled the air,

Freedom at last.

 

The new place was different,

But some things were the same,

The people were mean,

Somehow I felt no change. 

 

I now see that people,

Will never truly change,

The move has me see,

I must want to change.

 

Everyone hurts,

Everyone cries,

But only I, 

Can make me smile. 

This poem is about: 
Me
My community

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