My decisions really meant something, back then

A Tale From My Youth

It’s a terrible day.
I am alone, thinking.

It can’t be put off;
They’re waiting, downstairs.
They’re calling my name.

Summoning my resolve,
I march to the top of the stairs,
Look down at my parents, my friends,
Their upturned faces
Looking at me,

“I’m sorry,” I say.
“I’m not turning four today.”

I turn away, go back to my room.
They are confused
But a decision has been made.
I’m not growing up and
I’m missing my party.
I’m not turning four today.


***
This is the poem I wrote at the beginning of the semester, with great reluctance, since I didn't/don't think of myself as a poet. I just wrote this to get a little chuckle, though it's based on a true story. I think it's pretty weak, so I may not include it in my final ten; I can't think of any way to shore it up. But anyway, tell me what you think of this one, and I'll put a better one up tomorrow.

Thanks.