Cindi Silva Poetry

Dear Abby,

I’m in the third grade

My Mom says I need to wear a bra

I don’t want to grow up yet

I love to play outside

Sometimes my hair is brown;

sometimes it looks more blonde

My brother  puts an orange wedge in his mouth

laughs at me and says it’s me smiling

He tells me I run like a girl

I’ve worn glasses since I was two

I want to be a concert pianist

But I don’t have a piano

Maybe I’ll be a writer instead

I hope when I grow up I won’t be so shy

Awkward in California
Dear Awkward,

It sounds like you run like a girl

Because you are a girl;

You must have a beautiful smile;

That lights up your face;

Women pay big money to have

Their hair kissed by the sun

When you are older try wearing contacts

Maybe you…

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About mindfulnesswalks

Publicist| Citizen Journalist| Host| Mindfulness Walks| Virtual Cafe|Poet| Writer| Artist
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