The Beauty of Winter

I sat down and thought, "When did I become me?"

"When did I stop trying so hard?" "When was able to just be?"

Because growing up is hard, that's a lesson I've had to learn, 

It's taught me how to believe, to love, to discern.

But if I had to guess a true turning point in my plan, 

I would say it was the day I learned I couldn't be defined by any man.

A boy taught me that if I have to work for love, it's probably not right

Because real love believes that you're worth it - it shouldn't be a fight.

That made me grow up - that made me, me

It weirdly granted me confidence, and the ability to truly see. 

I saw that situation as winter and I felt trapped by the snow, 

It was winter because of the pain, but that pain made me grow.

 

 

This poem is about: 
Me
Our world

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