By Kara B., Age 17

As I grow, I plateau.
Stranded on this vast expanse of monotony
I see;
The craggy cliffs of circumstance
I’ve stumbled up to get me here.
But looking back there makes me dizzy;
Oh, haven’t I ever heard?
It’s not prudent to look downward!
Now turn my face to the trail ahead—
The rocks are rough and incline, steep.
Make my way up to the sharp ascent
And pray someday to reach my peak.