Style: Poem.
Statement: The phoenix, although a mythical bird, holds real significance for me. When a phoenix dies, it is reborn from the ashes, serving as a powerful symbol of rebirth and new beginnings. I am now a completely different person, rising from the ashes of my past self, like a phoenix.
She was only thirteen.
Young, dumb, and naive.
I wish I never used to be her;
she was happy, but she was weaker.
Heart broken in two; she had no clue.
In the wrong people, she put her trust,
her pride burnt down to ash and dust.
The scars heal after all these years,
revealing her blood, sweat, and tears.
She knew she had to start anew.
She died, and I was born from the ashes.
The fire inside me burns brighter than matches
like the phoenix I am. I grew up too fast,
determined to bury and burn down the past.
I grow through what I go through.
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