shivalihp

When best friends of old

become polite passersby

still give them a smile and let your heart be full

for theirs are broken too

and need to be reminded to mend.

I'm scared.

I can't believe we're here

Again.

I can't believe this is reality

Again.

Four years

They say.

It's only four years.

But it's four years

Of a living hell for me.

They laugh

My little sister 

Only 7 years old 

Innocent 

And yet strong willed 

She will grow up 

In this country 

With this president 

This person who calls himself 

Today I've walked around school in a haze

I don't know what to do 

How to feel 

I don't understand

How he won again

I don't think I want to understand

this is not a poem. 

this is not a song.

this is not metaphor, a sonnet, an ode, not a ballad, a rant, not even a dream–

this is a plea. 

Well yes, I am still young

You can call me a kid, but I will never again be

The toddler I was, smiling at joyous things

That I no longer enjoy now that I'm older,

And I like older kid things.