Teen Poetry Collections

White Walls & Collect Calls

by a young woman, age 16

It always seems like my thinking is stuck.
Like, when I'm in here, my thoughts, like me,
     are locked up in a cell.
I can't remember a single dream
I've had since being here.
I guess these blank walls cause
blank dreams as well.
I hear complaints all the time, yet
I never question why I'm here.
It almost feels as if going home
     is what I fear.
Yes, it's not the same, & yes,
some things are displeasing.
But I sometimes wonder why I'm
not happy when I think of leaving.
Maybe it's because I notice how much
better I behave.
I know I want to change for the good,
& while I'm at home, I stay the same.
So I guess the judge was right,
& this will do me some good.
Maybe when I leave, I'll act the
way they say I should.