grown up in a red light

Me? growing up? Absolutely not, the idea was something I never thought would happen. 

I enjoyed riding in the backseat of the car, closing my eyes and waking up at the grocery store or the car store. 

I enjoyed watching the raindrops race down the car window during a storm.

I enjoyed looking out the window and counting the time at red lights, and then counting any red cars we passed by.

But then the number attached to me grew larger, and before I knew it, I was in the front seat of the car, driving and feeling weak. 

You want me to stay in the lines and not hit anyone else?

Ok.

Is it possible to feel a popped tire leak?

I didn’t think so, at least until I popped open the tire.

I liked it when my parents took me to practice and let me tag along while running errands.

Fixing the tire was something they made me do myself. 

I went to the tire store and asked for help. 

BAM! 

It hit me. 

I was the one running errands.

I was the one taking myself to practice.

And I was the one who was paying for these things.

No more mom and dad to rely on for everyday things, paying for my own gas and making sure to pick up food for a recipe on the way home.

These were real responsibilities, things that adults do. 

I never thought this would happen but, in the blink of an eye, it did.

 

This poem is about: 
Me
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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