28 April 2016

Sat, 04/30/2016 - 00:57 -- denava

When I'm told how deoxygenated blood 
Goes in through one side of our heart
And out the other, carrying life through our veins and capillaries and to our organs

When I'm absorbing in an author's writing, absorbed in the beauty they brought out to the world,
And figuring out the author's purpose and diction and uses of rhetoric and meaning of their work

When I'm motivated to make something of myself
And continue my education and learn new things as I grow older

When I'm yelled at or ignored 
Or given advice only a motherly figure can give

When I am kneeling in the pew with my palms together
My face full of wonder while my heart is in awe at the love I feel

When the bags under my eyes that hold back oceans
Are as heavy as the world on my shoulders

When I'm happy and loved and filled with laughter
Because of ridiculous jokes and silly stories and meaningful sentences told with no doubts or second thoughts

When I pick up a marker, a pen, a crayon, a pencil, and grab a crumpled up paper or napkin

When I type a quick note in class or mumble to myself on the way home from school

When I write what the world hands to me

That is when I am a poet

This poem is about: 


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