My past, it wasn't great
By: Brianna MacLean
I remember the little girl that used to be my friend.
I remember the little girl that would trust me to guard her door because she was scared.
I remember the little girl that was adopted and new, but I didn't care.
I remember the little girl that was my friend.
That girl is now grown up, sorta.
She now has money, she's no longer new.
She's to good to be my friend.
To bad she won't remember what it was like to be brand new.
YOU ARE READING
The darkest corners of my mind [poetry]
PoetryThese are some of the many poems that have entered my mind and wound up onto paper.