shivalihp

My little sister 

Only 7 years old 

Innocent 

And yet strong willed 

She will grow up 

In this country 

With this president 

This person who calls himself 

Today I've walked around school in a haze

I don't know what to do 

How to feel 

I don't understand

How he won again

I don't think I want to understand

this is not a poem. 

this is not a song.

this is not metaphor, a sonnet, an ode, not a ballad, a rant, not even a dream–

this is a plea. 

Well yes, I am still young

You can call me a kid, but I will never again be

The toddler I was, smiling at joyous things

That I no longer enjoy now that I'm older,

And I like older kid things.

I write too much of things that aren't real. The imagined fear and pain of living a life I haven't got.

This life I have, this life is real, and I am on the precipice of demise. 

The golden, bright, vibrant sun,

shines throughout the day. 

It shines brightly on the first day of school.