self-aware sonnet

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A year ago, she thought she had it all

Because she had a plan, no one would break

At twenty-one, no hindrance could befall,

Begrudge, besmirch a girl so wide awake.

Cyclic is the pattern she knew best

Despite a change in scenery so grand

Caught off guard, defeated with no rest,

Does she know her fate is in her hands?

Entrained to what she might have been to you Fond traits that no one knows, not even me Evolving slowly, learning twenty-two For now, she is her own priority. Grotesque the soul that mirrors tendency

Grows effervescent when you set it free.