Today in Creative Writing we had to write a poem. A poem about a certain topic right? So I picked books. While writing, a classmate come up behind me and began to read my poem. I am a naturally vain person (XD) So I, naturally, expected some amazing compliment on my obviously superior writing skills. Read the poem and then I will tell you exactly what this certain classmate said.
You think you see right through me.
But what you see is only half,
of the real person buried deep inside.
The book is just a staff
with which I hide behind at night.
To try to keep away the fears.
And protect myself from fright.
To shield my aching heart
from your violent and cutting eyes.
I hold my feelings close in check.
Keep all of them deep inside.
But now my heart is breaking,
you clearly don't understand.
That my heart is laying on the ground on which you firmly stand.
So my classmate when he is finished reading says the following statement. "That's ridiculous! That's physically impossible!" Poetic injustice I tell you. Poetic injustice.
You think you see right through me.
But what you see is only half,
of the real person buried deep inside.
The book is just a staff
with which I hide behind at night.
To try to keep away the fears.
And protect myself from fright.
To shield my aching heart
from your violent and cutting eyes.
I hold my feelings close in check.
Keep all of them deep inside.
But now my heart is breaking,
you clearly don't understand.
That my heart is laying on the ground on which you firmly stand.
So my classmate when he is finished reading says the following statement. "That's ridiculous! That's physically impossible!" Poetic injustice I tell you. Poetic injustice.
Starry
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