Sunday, March 16, 2014


winter fades
spring is late
and the grass is still brown,
 d e a d.

i am nineteen
not a teen
not a woman

yet the roles i am given to play
are heavy, weighted with maturity
that i do not see carried by others like me (not like me)

they carry textbooks, schedules, futures
i follow tasks set down before time, holding impossible dreams

monotony, sacrifice, slow reward
a time to wait

winter fades
spring is late
and i am in-between.