Who am I?

In poetry, when we write through the point of view or perspective of another character as if it was our own this is known as persona. After reading “Death of Snowman” by Vernon Scannell we discussed the use of persona to describe the point of view of a snowman as he approaches summer. The poets were asked to then write through the point of view of something not human. Enjoy!

 

Dead Rose

By Sofia

I have been placed on this stone,

Almost rectangle like a statue

With a name on it

 

I am not quite sure

As to why I’m here

Nor as to why they

Have left me behind

 

Around me is

Dirt

Grass

More of those grey rectangles

And more miserable faded flowers

 

It takes me a second

Till I realize

Where I am

 

The Batman

By Gianni

I glide on the dark knight

Watching over Gotham

When it needs me the most

I hear the sirens take off

I follow above discreetly

I hear explosions and loud laughter

HAHAHAHAHA

The evil clown yells!

I land on top of a building

Waiting to strike

I pull out a gadget from my belt

Then all of the lights go out

I blend with the shadows

I live in them

They have a symbol for me now

They shine a bright light into the dark night

When they call me

 

Pencil

By Gio

I was sitting quietly in your backpack

Then I was brought out to see the light

I was held by a hand that it was time to write

I see other ones like me getting used

My pink sides are getting used too after the hand messes up

Sometimes I hear others like me when their lead has broken

 

Flowers

By Lailanie

I smell so good they make perfume from me

I grow because of water and sun

My pedals falling off with the strong wind

My colors are unique

 

Use me as a surprise for something romantic

I have many types

I bloom in the summer

Bee’s like my nectar

 

Music

By Jazlyn

We sing along to the beat

When we sing our hearts glow and shine

And our smiles brighten with every shimmer

Every day every night

A new song glows

The sound is in our hearts

 

War

By Alice

If you touch me I explode

If I hit you blood spurts

Holes in soldiers everywhere

Their final resting place

I never wanted to hurt but I do

Blood is everywhere

Too many graves

 

 

 

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TESTIMONIALS

“Writing poetry makes me feel like I can see myself, like I can see my reflection, but not in a mirror, in the world. I write and I know I can be reflected.”
-Oscar S.

“Writing poetry makes me feel free.”
-Buenda D.

“Writing poetry is like your best friend.”
-Jessica M.