11:11?
I'm making wishes,
but I still didn't do the dishes
Who would've thought
that 11:11 is all I've got?
Am I in lust?
or will it turn to dust?
The moon shines bright
on this fair night.
With a haunting glow,
my words start to flow
From my hands
unto paper stands.
High School is at it's end
And college is right around the bend.
Will my life start anew?
or am I one of the destined few
Cursed to never change?
Oh, wouldn't that be strange?
This poem is about:
Me
Guide that inspired this poem:
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: