Why do I have to write this?

I could be doing other things

Like dancing or singing

Or even ending world hunger

I’m not sure why I opened the page,

Put my name on it

And think:

Why am I doing this?

I don’t know if this is an essay, a personal narrative or a poem

Shouldn’t I have thought ahead?

I’m thinking what to write as I fill up the blanks

I really should’ve planned ahead

I know, if you are reading this,

You think that this is the weirdest thing you’ve read

I don’t blame you.

This is really bad

You probably think that you could have done better

And that I don’t know how to write,

And honestly,

I don’t know if I can either.

But maybe when I’m older,

Smarter and stronger,

I’ll read this again and say:

“I know exactly what I wrote.”


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