PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

The teacher said to write

A page

A poem

About what is true for me.

But what is true?

I've never given much thought

To the concept of "me."

Several things are obvious:

I am sixteen

(and a half, but who's counting?)

I play the French horn

In symphonic band

And march mellophone

7+ hours a week.

I must have my music

Else I shrivel and die.

My books, my refuge

Rescue me

From reality

And take me to a

Realm of fantasy.

These things are real

But are they really me?

Sometimes it seems that others' thoughts

Are more of me than I am.

They say I am smart.

But all that means is I can remember things

Do tough math problems

And I have a 4.0.

But does this define "smart?"

I can't analyze written works

Or find hidden meanings.

Neither can I write them

(which is why this poem is so bad).

I am literal-minded

So poetry irks me-

People should just write what they mean.

Everyone says I have talent.

But where is it?

I don't really see it.

I suppose I'm a good horn player

But not good enough to make it a career.

I can't sing

Speaking in public terrifies me.

I used to be shy.

I have more confidence now

But the unknown is still petrifying.

Am I happy?

I think I am.

I have more friends than I can count

And a family that loves me.

Something is still missing

But I'll find it when the time is right.

Until then I am content.

So this is me.

Or is it me?

In a poem modeled after "Theme for English B."