wood carving
i'm nothing.
i'm nothing but
petrified wood
nothing more
than a hardened rock
sitting in a grove of
others just like me
pointless and worthless.
so i carve out arms
hips
legs
head
shoulders
feet and hands
and i stand.
my worth becomes clear.
my point is to help.
i make more petrified wood
become like i have
a beacon in a dark forest
of confusion.
this is what
being a teenager
is.
This poem is about:
Me