Letting out my feelings and not being judged is vital,

To express myself, I am entitled.

Dancing helps me show my devotion,

Running distracts me from the commotion,

But only writing allows me to express all my emotions.

When I write I cannot be judged,

In the real world writing gets smudged.

But onto my paper, right from my pen,

Come the words of a misunderstood Freshman.

In the writing are my cries,

Then the sorrow is taken from my eyes,

The moment never dies.

But onto my paper, right from my pen,

Come the words of a misunderstood Freshman.