M. Hank

i miss summer camp.

i miss the pines

and the deer that hid

among them.

i miss the sunsets,

which were somehow

ever so much more beautiful

than any of the ones back home.

I'm a poet,

I'm a writer,

I'm a sister.

I'm outrageous,

I'm silly, 

I'm weird.

I'm also not special

I'm not better

or the best

But I want to be.

You can walk as far as the map will go. 
You can swim all oceans, seas, and lakes. 
You can drive every winding road, 
Bike each cracked and uneven sidewalk. 

The child you reared

The straight-A student

The hard worker, the one that gives

The disorganized, happy, childish teen

The one who cares too much

My very favorite poem is an inarguably terrible one. I do not know its name and do not care to find out if it has a name.