Teen

Some go to the mall,

Some go to basketball.

The ones that have fun at night, 

Are then running from the police in fright.

The ones known for looks,

Aren’t good with the books.

The ones that have fun with boys,

Are then seen as toys.

Either blessed with freedom,

Or dying of boredom.

Six hours of school a day,

Waiting for the month after May.

Parents yelling,

Siblings telling.

People saying what you should eat,

In the end you feel beat.

The life of a teenager. 

 
h

hfahey11

VT

17 years old

More by hfahey11

See all

  • Nonfiction

    By hfahey11

    Nostalgia


    You know when you’re little and your family always did that thing that made everyone happy and now you look back and it’s like where has all this gone? I have so many memories and moments that I think of every once and a while and it’s like wow.

    Read More

  • Poetry

    By hfahey11

    Storms


    Puddles gather on the ground, 

    The air is warm but the downpour stings when it hits your skin.

    Lightning strikes, thunder roars,

    Either inside watching a movie or outside letting the rain pelt your skin.

    Read More

  • Poetry

    By hfahey11

    Mouse


    We run deep in the grass far from the sight of the danger,

    We are small but in our world we are big. 

    In the summer it’s wide open plains,

    In the winter it's the walls of the house.

    At night we run freely,

    Read More