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.