Immature

A Poem by Samuel

This is an excerpt from my third book aptly named “Immature”

Some people hate how I write.
They tell me to get over it all,
“Act mature, your life is fine”
But they don’t get it.

I write for the past.
I write for the scars that still jut from my shoulders.
I write so I can understand the nightmares I have on rainy nights.

Now I don’t want to say you’re entitled or lofty.
I don’t want to claim you don’t know the pain I do.
Because I don’t know you,
You’re a million little voices reading this stanza.
A hundred sets of eyes that I can’t see.
I don’t know you anymore than you know me.

So think twice before giving me your criticism.
You’re reading my books,
So judge me more then by my cover.
I am gold in disguise.
Just look to what I’ve written,
and you’ll see that every poem is the molten gold that fills the holes within me.
Stop screaming at me.
Just talk to me.
I’m human too, and you can hate how I write all you want.
And you can be as immature as every other child out there.