Ms. Widman High School Creative Writing
A perfect subject to a piece.
A beautiful bouquet of fresh pink flowers–
will disclose your brush strokes
rushed and sloppy
smooshed into the image of a wet pom-pom.
Why not paint a toppled trash can?
To highlight every beautiful stroke.
A boy didn’t find everything interesting.
To him, he and everything just existed.
But when he read a poem,
everything went from gray to full of colors.
Eager upon this discovery, he read more,
as time rapidly ticked, ticked, and ticked.
The boy loved the stories, especially
the word choices the author used.
He wanted to learn more as he decided
that he too wanted to create his own world.
During the night, he never stopped on his
research, like a wolf claiming his prey.
He wanted to become the best,
and he knew that in order to do that, he needed
to give everything he got, as people waited
to become the best striker
for their home country.
The next day, as the clock was about to wake
him up, it was the boy that woke the clock up.
He heads out for the day, eager to start
his journey, as the protagonist and antagonist
walk to achieve their goal.
And that is Why I Write.
Poetry writes its own words
and I stand there waiting,
I listen
to the rhyme schemes it creates
and the beat it invisibly bops to
poetry wants to pour out
my mind and heart
since my mind tells me no
but my heart says yes
I mix them both into
a bowl of maybe
there’s a possibility
Poetry gives us a chance