As you lie in your bed,
Panic has glued you to its surface.
The horror stories you've heard,
The killers you've seen about,
The experiences you've already had,
Swarm about in your thoughts
As you try to dream peacefully.
Your brothers
Your sisters,
and close friends,
Tell you about the repulsion
Of Middle School
The girls are said to be so exclusive,
They tilt their heads when they speak
The boys are said to be so insecure,
They knock down your books for pleasure.
The teachers are said to be so stuck up,
They watch it all happen and don’t blink an eye.
Mom tells me it'll all be fine,
Dad tells me don't sweat it kid,
But Sara and Drew?
They speak differently.
I'm terrified,
I'm restless,
I'm only 11.
Will I make it through the first year?
Will I return home after the first day?
Should I purposely fail to repeat sixth grade?
But then I realize,
I'm not alone.
I quick pull up the school's website and accomplish a great feat,
The incoming sixth grade population is:
278.
Two hundred and Seventy Eight
Other kids having the same nightmares
I'm not alone, they aren't alone
I might even make a friend or two.
I fall asleep peacefully
I'm excited for middle school.
