Something a lot of people don’t know about me is that poetry is my life. Since I was young I have read poetry and have always been able to find something moving, or inspiring in the words of others. A few years ago, I picked up a pencil and decided to try to write in the way that I loved reading. When I first started out, I had a hard time finding things to write about, and most of my poems only got half way finished before I gave up and moved on. But as I practiced more, I started to see improvement in my poems, and some of them were even brought tears to the eyes of people I look up to. I started to notice that writing about activities, items, or anything I felt passionate about always turned out in my poems. Eventually I’d spend days weaving together words without stopping to take a break for anything. It entertained me, and continues to. Recently, Mr. Voley started bringing poetry into the classroom, and I embraced the opportunity to finally let my voice be heard. We read a poem, The Farmer by W. D. Ehrhart, and were asked to write a poem based on what we read. At first I didn’t know what to write, and was surprised when my pencil started moving. The words started flowing out onto the paper. I chose to write about a poet because poetry is what I feel most passionate about, but you’re going to have to be the one to judge the quality of the poem I created.
The Poet
The poet hides behind words
Words that inspire, words that are a spirit
Sewn together to make a mask
Pain, love, sorrow
A slow song, portraying inner beauty
A hope to go on
The poet writes to
Deliver the world from pain
To make a change
Stains of lead
Fingers mangled from years
Of expressing a reason
A reason for living…
A reason for loving…
Wisdom written in lines
In stanzas
In words
For you, the poet has hope
For you, the poet writes on
The Poet
The poet hides behind words
Words that inspire, words that are a spirit
Sewn together to make a mask
Pain, love, sorrow
A slow song, portraying inner beauty
A hope to go on
The poet writes to
Deliver the world from pain
To make a change
Stains of lead
Fingers mangled from years
Of expressing a reason
A reason for living…
A reason for loving…
Wisdom written in lines
In stanzas
In words
For you, the poet has hope
For you, the poet writes on