Twenty-One People


I am not a clone

Each day of every week, I sit in a desk.

And wait for the transformation to begin

With twenty other people who will be transformed

Minds ready to be tapped empty and refilled

Twenty-one people sitting in the same square, cold, plastic desk.

I am not a clone.

I face forward with my feet flat on the floor

With my hands folded in my lap.

With twenty other people who sit facing-forward

Feet flat on the floor, hands in their laps. 

Twenty-one people facing-forward, flat feet and folded hands.

I am not a clone.

I'm handed a script, telling me what I should learn

How fast I should learn, and when I should learn.

With twenty other people, reading scripts

Memorizing how, what, and when they will learn.

Twenty-one people, reading a script, telling them how they learn.

I am not a clone.

I sit, and I listen 

As I'm told who I am and who I will become.

With twenty other people, sitting and listening

Being told who they are, and who they will become.

Twenty-one people, being told that they must be the same.

I will not be a clone.

I was not born one

I will not become one

With twenty other people, who are not like me

Who can not be made to be like me.

Twenty-one people, with different goals and different souls

Can not be molded into one.

I am not a clone.






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 for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741