Who says that its all up to me?

Why do I suddenly have all of the power,

to change my life,

to change my school,

to change my community,

to change my world?

Who decides the worth

of this poem,

of my feelings,

of my life?

Why can't everything just be easier-

like coloring inside the lines,

like asking an imaginary friend for advice,

like putting sprinkles on a cupcake,

like not eating the apple seeds at the core?

And suddenly, it is all up to me 

to find the power to make this

poem worth something, 

so that my life-

might be just a little bit easier.