The first time she looked at the stars, her eyes lit up. How many other planets were out there? There was no possible way that humans were the only living things. She'd constantly hypothesize different scenarios. Different moments when she might find another being. She thought when she was older, she'd study the stars. She was 11. She had plenty of time.
6 minutes, 7 seconds, that was the length of her first song. She loved it, though it sounded terrible. But she kept thinking, maybe it will get me onto a stage, maybe I can be a star. She didn't share it with anyone, but she'll never forget the length of it. 6 minutes of time. Time. She was 12. She had plenty of time.
Then, she got her hands on a bandage. She sprained her ankle, felt it swell. She learned how to treat it, got curious. She started to take classes. She was good at this, the doctoring and taking care of things. She loved it, she liked it. She was 13. She looked outside. Time. Time. Time. She has time.
She started writing, and she won an award. She won several more after. She was good at this, the staring at a screen, letting her mind run wild. But procrastination hit hard. So many good plots went to waste, then got reused by someone else. 23 documents. She knows the number. Just in November it hit 24. She never finishes writing her novels. How sad. She was 14 at the time. Time. Time. Time. God, she has time.
She was with her dad and she looked up. What is it like to fly? To be in the clouds. There were no stars this time, just the sun. She watched a plane go by. Pilot. Ooooh, I like that idea, she thought. She smiled to herself. Yes, a pilot will do. She started to research, get interested then . . . Oh. Right, her vision is bad, she wears glasses. Well, there goes that plan. She looks at a clock and . . . Time. Time. Time. Time. God, she's running out of time.
She thinks maybe flight attending! Yes, that's better! But do I have the body for it? Is she the right height, does she have the right waist? No, no, no she's too big, isn't she? God, her hands aren't thin enough, she needs to see the bones. How can her friend do it but she can't? Keep thinking, keep thinking, keep . . . The clock ticks, it's April 17th again. She's 16. No, no, no, time, time, time, time, time, SHE'S RUNNING. OUT. OF. TIME.
It's the year before graduation, her grades aren't high enough. Can she make it to community college? Scratch that, scratch it out! You aren't good enough. No, maybe she can get a GED, maybe she can find a way around it. No, she'll end up like her mother, a gas station cashier nobody. She glances at her paper, a list of colleges. Several are crossed out, all that's left is Parkland, and even then they'll reject her. She looks at her phone. Time. Time. Time. Time. TIME. TIME. SHE'S RUNNING OUT OF TIME.
Try again, try. Again. Write, write, that's what she's good at, right? Maybe if she tries hard enough, those awards will get her somewhere. No, no, her GPA was awful. She's tired, how can she do this? Where will she go? 17, 17, golden birthday, NO. Growing up is not what she was wanting! She looks at the clock and . . . The time hasn't stopped.
18. 18. 18. 18. It was all a blur. Did she walk the aisle at graduation? Where's her cap and gown? 19. 19. 19. 19. What dorm is this? Where am I now? No, no, no, no, write it, write it, write it down. Go, go, go, go. What am I doing now? What was my major again? Or was it a minor? I look at the clock. Time. Time. Time. Time. I'm running out of time, I'm….
Fine. I have plenty of time.
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This poem was written off of my own experience growing up, from the time I started thinking of jobs to now. The repetition was intentional, as during this time, I was very obsessed with time. Haha.
hey its been awhile! i think this poem is pretty great! it shows some emotion and constant stress about the future and growing up. it captures that very well! i think the repetition is used a very great amount and the constant worry of what youll do for the rest of your life is very relatable. i like how in the 5th stanza the speaker seems to feel almost dizzy in a way as the things in their life start to pile up and the panic increases severely. as someone else stated, i also enjoy the switch from hopeful to extreme panic. the feeling of stress is so strong for this person and causes them to insult their mother, assume the worst, and constantlt compare themselves to others. it shows how exhausting growing up under pressure can be. overall, this one turned out great! well written with a few strong lines and a great and clear depiction of constantly worrying about your future at such a young age.
Hallo Tao, happy 12 Days of Reviewing 2025 😊
I like how you structure this. To have each paragraph correspond to a certain age and the repetition about how time is passing but there is still some left until there isn’t, is very well handled. I liked to hear about all the dreams the narrator (you?) had and that there wasn’t really anything that stopped you from following them. It was just, so much other stuff competing for your attention. That’s really cool.
[Also you can get into pilots any time. *hides the endless research for the sci-fi story about pilots*]
“She started to research, get interested then “ shouldn’t it be “got interested”?
I also like how this is the moment where the narration shifts from hopeful to stressed out. Man the requirements for flight attendants are something else. And the line abt the end station job of the parent…oww but rly realistic @.@
I remember I was one of the few ppl who wasn’t happy about growing up. Because I already figured adult life would be difficult. But in the end it just means that you can stop worrying abt what other ppl think and just do your own thing =D
Well, this really is a stressful period and I can feel that through every line!
As someone with chronic anxiety time is sometimes all I think about. Late nights begging anyone one to just stop the clock, cause I can barely get myself together. Sometimes I forget that time is universal, that I'm not the only one running out of it. This spoken word perfectly captures the brain melting concept that is time. Why do we always seem to be running out of it? Why does it always seem like I can't have enough. We try to hold time by the reigns but we can't. This poem was beautiful, and I as well know how scary running out of time can be. Wonderful poem, thank you for sharing it! As you can see from my mini rant it's showed me a perspective similar to my own. Thank you!!!!
Thank you for the review! I'm glad you liked it, and it makes me feel better knowing someone can relate.
I mainly made this off of the fact that I know some high schoolers who are struggling right now. stress is hard this time of year, so if I can write something, might as well let them know they have people with them. <3