An Un-Measurable Teen

Years are measured;

Not by the days,

but by the time that takes up the days.

Time is measured;

Not by a clock,

but by the experience in between each tick and tock.

 

At 16 I felt the stings of heartbreak.

At 16 I saw the darkness known as sorrow.

At 16 I heard the screams in my head.

At 16 I smelled dreams burn up.

At 16 I tasted defeat.

 

Experience comes in more ways than comprehensible.

Experience teaches that minds are malleable and change is the outcome.

But a malleable substance, such as I, is not easy to form.

And at the beginning of my Seventeenth year

I could sense the change coming.

 

At 17 I felt the world lift off my shoulders

At 17 I saw the light at the end of the tunnel

At 17 I heard myself scream out, “I can do it!”

At 17 I smelled the burning desire to pursue my dreams

At 17 I tasted victory

This poem is about: 
Me
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