Gali

Composed on a run

With autopilot turned on

And an old love song
 

Quick little poems

With no start, nor a clear end

Grown just in my head
 

In a cozy nook

Not unwritten, but unsaid

i used to dream

of the day

i started middle school,

thinking the excitement

of getting older

outweighed the pain

of growing up.

my teachers wondered why.

and now that i'm in

I sob for

something I think I

hate, but cry "no no no"

when asked if I

want to quit.

Because I just can't.

There is no

possible way

that I could quit.

The curtain call

I’m out of time

I dance with my hands tied

Pages hold the ink

of my pen, tears of my eyes,

power of my words.

fitting in is rent, and it's due every day

paid in the basic clothes you wear

and in the people of which you smile and compliment

but more importantly in the people you don't