I Am... Scholarship Slam

I Am... the face of my city..

I am... a visonary.

I am.. the novel of my people. 

Each page, represents my people.

Views from the peasants, aren't always pleasant,

Father of the daughters gone to heaven, 

As they say, but never question, only obey.

Demand that they moan for as long as he lay,

Demand that tragedy forever stays,

We shall take it with us to our graves.

Just a few views from families that I have seen,

Viewing as time pass day by day,

High demands for a huge home, or should I say, huge house,

Full house,

Yet vacancy roams through the halls, where closets are filled only with designer blouse,

Designed to display smile, but failure to engage on emotions,

Feelings are evacuated soon as we produce them. 

Free spirit I am,

And free spirit I shall be.

I will not be just a body amongst the public,

A stringed attached puppet.

Today I cut the strings,

Today I no longer need you mother, today I push my own swing.

Imprisoned for character,

I can only see faith through a key hole,

I pray, but the walls are sound proof.

I refuse to let this be my faith,

My destiny? Will not be at stake.

Sorry but my future will not hold:

Depressed and unwed,

Drowning sorrows while I lay in bed.

A 9 to 5 commitment, making no bread.

Shame is brought in all shapes and forms,

Nature is a sin, and for that, the nature must die.

Gods gift, or satans seed,

Regardless the truth, we all bleed.

Two deaths,

My ambitions and beliefs,

But only one ceremony.

More like a celebration,

Everyone cheers you on when you're the man,

But the second you slip no one is around to give you a helping hand.

They're on to the next one,

And when he's done, 

Here comes another one...

And another one.

And so on.

But the day your existence becomes yet again, relevant,

They swarm in a single file line all again,

With open hands, and high demands,

Swearing they have always been your fan.

100 miles away from home now,

New city, I'm touching base on new ground.

Same goals, fresh start, but this city must not be able to afford lights, because it's all dark.

Bright future, but it's clouded by a sin,

I only have 1 shot, but the trigger just happens to be jammed. 

This poem is about: 
Me
My family
My community
Our world
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

Comments

Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.
 

 

If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741