When I was sixteen
I was a fiend, for the sadness
Didn't do well in life;
Let alone pass my classes
Ready for life to finally end
It was then and only then;
When I picked up a pen;
And bled my emotions,for everyone to see
Now I'm sitting pretty
Almost twenty three
Not nearly as much of a fiend;
As I used to be
Though I still feel the urge;
To still be
Sixteen