Part One

When I was young my teacher said
What’s going on inside your head?
Not all verse needs to rhyme
Do you think like that all the time?
You cannot write with real passion
If you continue on in this fashion
Her face was tight with pure distaste
Like a lemon burst in outer space
She pointed a finger to the door
You shouldn’t be here anymore
I went off like a sad cartoon
Feeling like a real maroon
Looking down and kicking rocks
Staring at my stripe-ed socks
If she was right what would I do
(the striped-sock was in my shoe)
It was hard to think form a to b
When all I could see next was a Sea
Of thoughts all determined they would win
And be inside my voice again
Could I be just a major fluke
This is where I use the word duke
I had to know if I would be
Accepted in society
So with determination I lost my pout
And went to get my brain checked out.

Part One

trennea

Fernley, United States

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