Unsure

• Maddison Legge, Grade 8
• Poetry
• 2018

One, Two, Three, Four,
Don’t come knocking at my door,
I can’t handle my reflection,
You can’t handle the rejection.
Four, Three, Two, One,
Take my hand and off we run.
Don’t look back now,
Don’t you stop,
We haven’t been gone long enough.
Change the mirror and change it quick,
four, three, two, six, it makes me sick.
Love her now, and love her later,
But don’t pretend that you hate her,
Insecure, she’s so pure,
And one thing she is,
So unsure.