Freshman Blues

Walking off a High School wedgie,
Just digging out my underwear.
Lodged tight in the crack of doom,
These days it seems they're always there.

This daily Freshman ritual,
I try to face with chin held high.
I laugh so they don't see my pain,
But it's hard for me not to cry.

Ruffed up by every Senior,
I've got to stave off that fear look.
They take my picture on their phones,
Hope it won't be in our yearbook.

I know there's not much I can do,
It's time I should take a stand though.
But since I'm only five foot four,
Maybe I should go commando.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2023

Poem

Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.

Please Login to post a comment

Be the first to comment on this poem. Encourage this poet.

Get a Premium Membership
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace