Backstabber

I've changed.
He's changed. She's changed.
Why is everyone changing?
Best years of our lives right?
What's true is that now, we learn how to hide it. We learn how to hide our feelings. Our love. Our growth.
Strike one.
We don't share our failures because we judge eachother because of it.
Strike two.
We don't share our successes because jealousy arises with our closest friends.
Strike three.
We say one thing that's wrong. Then "oh silly teenagers, they haven't lived long enough to understand."
Strike four.
We go to school all day long, come home with seven different types of homework, then mom walks through the door and screams about how awful her day was. You worry, because she might have a heart attack.
Strike five.
And yet, she can't quit. She has five children and who knows when she'll be able to get a job again without being able to speak English.
Strike six.
Then we go to school next day. Your friend is depressed and cut herself again. You try to comfort but you know it will only be a matter of time.
Strike seven.
Before you know it you are walking at graduation, saying goodbye to the most bittersweet four years of your life. Afraid that you can't leave because mom needs you. Afraid that you'll fail. Afraid that you will never see any of those people again.
Strike eight.
Afraid cause you changed.
And you didn't even know it.
Experiences matter.

This poem is about: 
My community

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