The buildings stand tall
My brother pats my back as he ushers me toward the door
This is prison
It has to be
The chairs start to become more comfotable
The tables not as huge as they used to
The books start to limit themselves. I've read them all
The playground no longer somewhere I can play
The slides, barely any room to manuver
Legs at the bottom due to sitting I laugh
The buildings were tall
Now they're just overhead
YOU ARE READING
Steps To Greatness
PoetryThere are the steps that I take to being a better poet. The shorter smaller steps anyway. Mainly consist of short poetry.
