Limerick

She was a child that grew up poor.

Thought she would never open a door.

From kicking and screaming,

To second and gleaming;

New journies ahead, but still wants more.

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