The Age

Anything Relavent: Same as below....but this poem was achually printed in the newspaper so i am really proud of it :D

The WHY: I wrote this when i was kinda mad at my dad..i diddnt think he understood me and what im going through.

The Age

We are not angry souls

We are not bloodthirsty, black, dark, evil things

We do not feed off sadness

We ARE sadness

It fills us up

It’s not our choice, it’s the age.

The age of questions that do not have a definite answer

And that is what scares us.

We try to hide it away

Cover it up with Band-Aids for the soul

Bad things

But again, it is not us

It is the age

An age all grow out of in time

For now we need to be left to it

Left to spread our wings

Even if crooked, detached, or discolored

They are wings nonetheless.

But the wings do not resemble our heart

They resemble the age.

And when we are ready, we will leave the age

We will have answered the questions thought to have no answer

But we have not left the ages forever

But have ventured onto a new one.

I really like this picture..it really demonstrates how i felt while writing this

Sincerly,
Sarah Jessica