Thu, 06/27/2019 - 10:16 -- pjgrace

At four years old

I skimmed my knee

Crying on the pavement, sobbing, screaming

Bloody band-aid, red checks,

Waiting for someone to rescue me


At eight years old

I failed my first test

Spelling and math,

I waited for my brain to rescue me


Twelve years old,

I looked at me

I hated what I saw,

My stomach, my thighs,

Too big, too wide,

No one could rescue me


Fourteen years old

They bullied me

I was alone

A friendless freak

Expectations, pressure

Crooked teeth

Who would rescue me?


At sixteen years old,

I moved to a new school

New friends, new teachers

New opportunities

People who Cared

I wasn’t anxious to try new things

They had rescued me


Now I’m eighteen years old

Unafraid to be myself

Confident, Courageous

Creating my own art

My head held high, I watch them stare


I had rescued me

This poem is about: 
My community
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 


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