To Thirteen Year Old Me

I see you by the oak tree,

Laughing as your heart desires.

Tomorrow, you’ll scrape your knee

And you’ll jump through tires.

My innocent little Kenzibear,

Times will get harder.

Won’t you be aware,

You won’t always be filled with ardor.

As middle school begins,

You’ll slowly lose your friends.

They’ll create plenty of sins

And make no plan for amends.

Unable to attend the school any longer,

Find yourself hiding in your room day and night,

I promise someday you’ll get stronger;

May feel as if it’ll never be alright.

My innocent little Kenzibear,

Times will get harder.

Won’t you be aware,

You won’t always be filled with ardor.

Tears may shed

And hearts may break.

You’ll want to be dead,

Hard to stay awake.

Don’t shut your eyes,

Take a deep breath.

Soon, you will rise.

You won’t be living death.

My innocent little Kenzibear,

Times will get harder.

Won’t you be aware,

You won’t always be filled with ardor.

Half way near,

So very close.

Spread a little cheer,

Away from the lows.

Look at you,

Allow yourself to be proud.

This is your break through;

You won’t be stuck in the rain cloud.