I don't usually write poetry because I- hmm, how shall I say this- suck at it. But I wrote this poem a while ago, and decided to share it. I welcome criticism, please don't hold back.
I didn't really like the dress.
It lay on the floor in a puddle, after I stepped out of it and left it there alone.
I had worn it that night, even though it was my mom's. It was green and had a
very high neckline but it was pretty short and it was tight enough that it was kind of hard to walk.
Everyone had said that I looked good in it, and
then I had to smile modestly as they said how tall I was and How beautiful I was,
And maybe I saw a little of what they saw because when I looked in the mirror I thought I looked pretty, even though I had only put on lip gloss and it had worn off by then.
Later when I took off the dress and changed back into sweatpants
I though that the dress had taken away my prettiness.
It was still waiting on the floor, expectantly,
as if I could just step back in it and all the people could come back and I would be able to look in the mirror
because I was wearing the dress.