Okay, this is the first poem that anyone has read of mine, unless I wrote it for them and gave it to them. So it's scary. I want feedback. ~deep breath~ Okay.

This was written in an Irish Cafe in the Bronx, and it's untitled.

Too old for pigtails and babydoll dresses
You're mighty tall for a six year old.
Hey man, you're only as old as you feel...
right?

I'll always be a little princess.
Kermit is my friend,
we went to school together.

But how many six year olds carry
Camels and Trojans in their overalls?
I only talk to my mom when things are going well-
once a week, but usually I pretend
because I'm not that lucky.
But tonight I want to call her
and tell her that I might have found
that "home" that I was shoved out of
all of nine months ago.

Dirty, loud, rude, beautiful.
The Empire State Building, I could climb it.
I'm a princess, I can do anything.
Someday I'm going to be even taller than that.

And I was, in my overalls on my daddy's shoulders.
But I have known shoulders much stronger,
my own included.

The oldest six year old I know.
5'3''. I can see my house from here.

Sorta.

Tomorrow morning I'll put in my pigtails
and pull on dusty faded jeans and a t shirt.
I'll look for my 10-speed and a tall tree to climb.
I can see my house from here.

Sorta.

No matter if it's 15 cents and a jumprope in my pocket,
or 15 cents and half a pack of cigarettes like right now,
My overalls fit me as well as they ever did.