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Captivity
November 26, 2019
Captivity, or my definition of she,
Is a quiet beast beneath my feet,
Follows close, too close to breathe,
Knowing my move, and crushing my teeth.
Pulling my skin wide and wide,
Giving me no more room to stride,
Never have my senses been touched,
For she is always there to gush.
Too young to know, too old to play,
My hair has already begun to fray.
When is the time if the time is not now?
I asked her and now I am chained to the plow.
© Reed W., Wellesley, MA
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I have always lived in the suburbs. I hate it. I want to leave, go out and live my own life, independent from the people who insist my life is theirs too. 1 year away from college now, I still feel that I am too young for my mind, and that age barriers are preventing me from living out my peak years. I am 17 and finally have my full drivers license, but now I have to be 18 to vote, and 21 to drink. Its not fair and I feel that it shouldn't be up to others to decide what teenagers can and can't do based upon our age. Its too bad that that's how society works.