Jatie Apple

Changes Happen

To go from a small town to a bigger city,
it makes you feel like your filled with pity.
When you move on highways, and roads,
You shoulder feels like it is carring loads and loads.
Somewhere between the distance from the finish line to start,
the thing that you feel is lost is your heart.
In a small town you feel like your home.
In the city you feel like its time to roam.
When I get there I stay up late at night,
I wake up my eyes burn from the morning light.
My feet reach the cold floor,
I didn't get enough sleep I need more.
You can gently lay down or throw yourself.
Hands stuggling to get to the phone,
But I can't so I groan.
I stand up and the number I dial,
you answer the phone I hear your voice smile.
When I hang up I lay back down,
knowing now that changes will happen.

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Poem Submitted: Thursday, April 9, 2009

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Robert Frost

The Road Not Taken



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