Seventh grade: a playground.
Time to play around.
The advanced got their letters
Algebra.
Seventh grade wasn't such a joke anymore.
Next year I watch the advanced class.
Wishing, hoping I had gotten off of the playground sooner,
And started the stage of studying.
I would be a step behind those twenty some-odd kids.
But I would find a way to be as good.
Eighth grade: The Inception.
I started to pick up my toys from the playground,
Yet I wasn't quite ready to leave.
One toy had been broken, it ruined the set.
One B was all I got.
However good, it broke the newly formed chrysalis in half.
I would have to wait until next year to catch up to those already liquefied.
Ninth grade: The Transformation.
As the year went by I slowly started to see the playground vanish.
Until one day I couldn't see it at all.
My chrysalis has closed all the way.
Catching up to the ones who have their wings.
Tenth grade: I Fly.
Instead of sitting on the swing, I sit on a red chair.
With a textbook in hand I see my report card beside me.
Suddenly my chrysalis breaks again, yet something is different.
I have wings!
I take off and as I look behind me I see empty chrysalises.
Yet one ahead has half a wing.
But yet I have no sorrow.
I was young and clueless while on the playground.
The advanced kids will always be ahead of me,
But it doesn't mean they will be as successful, as with the one ahead.
If I had gotten off of the playground earlier would I be like that one ahead?
It doesn't matter, because now I fly freely ahead without looking back,
Knowing that my struggles led me to here to this successful place.
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