Bad Days

I miss the old days, the ones that made mehh smile.
I miss the fun I had growing up, I had nothing to cry about.
Now that I'm a teenager, I see the world from what it is.
The days I now have are bitter sweet,
Nothing really matters anymore.
You don't know if your day will be good or bad.

This poem is about: 
Me
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

Comments

Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.
 

 

If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741