MY Year?

An annual flower

Bloomed, past its prime

Shriveling, falling lower

 

Shoulders hunched over a textbook

A flower steadily drooping

Friends disappear all around

No familiar faces in this crowd

Manager gropes and grabs as he pleases

Can't stay here, couldn't, left behind friends

 

Working somewhere new

Learning the language

Hesistant friends

I cannot speak to

 

Nothing can relate

It's all too different now

They've movedon, but

Think I'm filled with hate

 

It's all changed too fast

Can hardly remember the past

This year has been wild

And I've been beguiled

Chaos is adaptive, systematic

I'm left feeling like

I should lock my past up

in the attic.

This poem is about: 
Me
My community
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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