Bad poetry from an 8th grade Rachel

I recently found some old poetry that I wrote and will be posting them here.

They were all written around the time of my parent's divorce. Wow, can really tell that things were going on in my little head that maybe were a little deep for an 8th grader to grasp. But then again, I've always felt a little older than I am - feel like I'm an old soul.

This was done for a class presentation. It's still on the three-ring yellow paper that I originally typed it on with a note on the bottom, "Re type on white paper for transparency!" I don't remember my teacher's name from this class, but she really encouraged me. I'm not sure if it was because she thought I was good or because she knew I needed support at the time. But she was nice and I liked that class a lot... in the end, some of the details don't matter as long as you took something good away from it.

Time
by 8th grader
Rachel McClard

Time goes by quicker and quicker
Life goes by like the blink of an eye
Before you know it you will be old and gray.

What will your life be like years from now?
What will you be when you grow older?

When I was little all I thought of was the day I was living.
Now I think about today, tomorrow, and yesterday.
I think of the life that I led and the memories of the past.

But what is a memory?
Is it the good things or the bad things that have happened to you?
Could it be both?

Memories come as time goes by.
As you grow older dim pictures of your childhood appear but they are
some-times smeared and faded.
And sometimes all you have are the words that were spoken to you in a
time which cannot come back.

All I want is the days of the past to come again.
I want my life to be better. No stress and fear of what tomorrow will bring.
Without the sadness of yesterday being gone and never coming back.

Time goes by quicker and quicker and soon another day today will be over,
and I'll be sad for another day of life passed and dreams in my life not
fulfilled.

Dreams are happy and some are sad.
Dreams are hopeful and dreams are happily created.
Dreams are thoughtful and they are hateful.

Time goes by quicker and quicker.