Anonymous

I don’t share my poetry with anyone. 

I don’t read it aloud

To a group of supportive friends,

And smile as they applaud the words on the page. 

I remain anonymous. 

I don’t share my poetry with my family. 

My mother will look at me with sad, 

Worried eyes. 

My father will nod his head

As if any of it actually sunk in. 

I remain anonymous. 

I don’t share my poetry with my friends. 

They wouldn’t listen anyways.

Their conversations would overlap my words 

Until it is as if I had never spoken at all. 

I don’t share my poetry with teachers. 

They’ll call it art, 

Analyze it, 

Criticize it, 

Until there’s nothing left.

I remain anonymous.  

I don’t share with my family. 

I don’t share with my friends. 

I don’t share with my teachers. 

Because in the end, 

It’s not like it ever mattered anyways. 

I’m just anonymous.

 

This poem is about: 
Me

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