I Am Not Ready

I understand that I graduated,

and for that I should be proud,

but instead the thoughts are racing inside my head loud.

I’m not ready for that simple change.

I’m not ready to move up another grade.

When I was little,

it all seemed so pointless,

and when I moved another year up,

it was a call for joy.

I was a big kid,

and that meant something,

but now I am a big kid,

and I never want to go.

I am not ready to move up another grade.

I will never be ready to leave them all behind,

because after this year we’re all going our seperate ways.

After this year,

I don’t know where I’ll be.

I am not ready to leave my home behind.

I am not ready to leave my friends behind.

I thought I’d at least have half a year,

but when schools closed early,

I wasn’t even there.

I never got to say goodbye, and now I never will.

I am not ready to leave my school behind.

I am not ready to leave all I know.

I am not ready to leave behind my childhood.

After all,

I’ve been in the same school since I was six.

I am not ready.

At least I’ll see some of my classmates in high school,

I originally thought,

but now it became evident that that wasn’t going to happen.

Away I moved,

not too far I couldn’t go back to visit,

but far enough I was no longer within that school district.

The kids I’ve known all my life,

I know I’ll miss them too.

Next year,

it all starts anew.

With no friends,

and a snuffed heart,

I have to start here too.

I am not ready for this all to bloom.

I am not ready to start high school.

I am not ready for my scattered thoughts,

and scattered self to be forced to grow into an adult without saying goodbye.