PoemsBrowse PoemsSlamsFresh DropEchoes
LearnWriting TipsPoetry TermsPoets & ArtistsBooksFor Teachers
ExplorePoetry GenomePoem MapEchoesTake ActionGroups
AboutWrite a PoemDonateSign UpLog In

Hard times


When you are young,

Only one or two,

Everything makes sense to you.

Circles with circles,

Draw inside the lines,

A scrapped knee is hard times.

Later on once you're eight or nine,

Everything is going fine.

You start to think,

Idea's flow,

Hard times? You couldn't know...

Now kids hit preteens you see,

It ain't all its cracked up to be.

"I think I've liked him since my birth!"

He never liked me...

It's the end of earth.

Teenage years just hit

Now I KNOW that I'm the shit

I know everything, more than mom

What's that pill, what's in that drink?

Now I'm puking in the sink.

I can't come home,

I'm on my own.

I have dunce on my cone.

When did life start to blow?

I thought I knew, but know I know,

Hard times, they're for everyone.

I'm in the rain I'm in the cold,

I can't believe I was so bold.

To have a roof to have some food,

I can't believe I was so rude.

I want my mom, I want my bed,

Hard times before were in my head.

©All Rights Reserved

Something wrong with this poem?

Share

Replies are closed for this poem.

Your Poem's Voice

See what makes your poem unique — its voice, energy, themes, and the literary traditions it draws from.

Comments (0)

No comments yet. Be the first to share your thoughts.

Log in to leave a comment.