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I think a lot
And see that no matter
How much I think
The world goes on
The planets will spin
Around our meaningless
Minor brains
Our running rivers
And forest flames
Destroy the planet
Eat the life
That’s my muse
This is my art.

I wonder too much
Have too much to do
Can never say
A whole sentence
Without being
Cut off
By other people
And I muse on that too
I write stories
And try to draw
My deep down dreams
And they don’t
Matter
And no one cares
What the musing teen
Wants to say

Others don’t have a clue
They seem to have forgotten
The wonderful thoughts
Of being a teenager
So I write it here
In bad poetry
As a momento
To the thoughts
Of me
The musing teenager
So when I am older
And they are
Out of date
And have them
No more
I’ll remember my faults
But respect my innocence
To the pain and worry
Of the remembered adult
Yet I can smile
And recall

The musings of a forgotten teenager

-- Sophie Withall