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POET: PHILIP AMARA SAFFA
POET: PHILIP AMARA SAFFA
My future calls my name I don't know where I should aim My interest for nursing may be spendy It also may be trendy But if scholarships won College can get done The stress of college cost,
C-o-l-l-e-e-nI’d sound out the letters when I’d write them Tiny hand flexed ungracefully around a crayon. Words, form from bold strokes.
I cannot express my passion and inclination for doing what I have always loved to do At one point, I was pulled from the path I was destined to follow and was distracted by petty things such as money and status and locale
Release me You taught me how to turn ideas into sentences Showed me how to get a gold star from my teachers
Television is like a broken world Scattered people, lost in their own Mind Like a dog chasing its tail, Running In circles as they repeat again,
Childhood has begun to fade; finding your purpose is the aim. The pieces of life spread apart like trinkets of a game. Glow until you grow or until growing causes glowing. Beginning higher education challenges everything you know.Questioning the p
3 people search 3 people few 1 is an architect 2 is on the news 3 is the major
When I was younger I was afraid of growing up I didn’t like the thought of Getting wrinkles, Sunspots, Grey Hair;
Dear Little Black Girl that desires to be me. I want you to grow up and chase your own dreams. Don't follow my footsteps, don't do as I do. Create your own path and be you.
Under a sky, Of burning stars. The moon sheepishly, Giving way to the Sun, As time races away. It was dawn. Waking up, Not something I want to. But something I had to.
Moles of Misfortune By Ben Fitzgerald Darkness and light all at once, The faces of many and yet few, But who am I to judge our fate.
Trapped in my own tempest You guided Becoming my hope to safeness I sailed Turning my darkness to light I travel
Your lectures seem to be never ending With new thoughts constantly sending My writing is better I've become a goal-setter With your help my future is pending
potential is an ugly word. a pass for the unfocused flowers an excuse "you would be so great if you would only try" "you would be so great if your teachers were better"
I come from a little town in the western part of Mexico A pueblo called Santa Anita in Guadalajara, Jalisco From dreamers both my parents and I Who came to seek a better future until we die
Dear Dad, Where were you?When mom was working 24/7 to put food on the table. Where were you? When your own flesh and blood came into the world unstable. Where were you?
I refuse to go unprepared Like a curse I can't go without a plan I demand a plan I work hard in preparation, feel nothing but desperation
Dear Education, You taught me to write in rhymed tercet And terza rima, by reading Dante’s Inferno A tale of a trail through Hell, quite dulcet. But in the future, Dante’s story I will forego
I’m exhausted. This education is fucking with me. I’m a little bit terrified That I’ve been led down the wrong path.
Education, it seems, Is nearly as mediocre as social media, Except it is more restrictive. Things like cyberbullying, harassment, and fallacies are allowed in school,
Why should I become disciplinary?When all of the information I learned,To be like a milkshake, a fused product.Against specializing, I am impelled.
There was a field-specific teacher.Whose awareness was a misfeature.She taught her students one day,In a very narrow way,And spouted hot air as a preacher.
As ground separates,Across the giant landscape,Bright animals bound.
They tell me education is the key to success the key that will get me out this mess the key that will present me with a new dress, walk and flow about me. Present me as "Doctor" instead of "Mister"
You see it in their faces and on the street, childrens’ faces hungry, angry, and weak. You pass back their papers, oh no Johnny got a D. Let’s rewind a little time to last night,
A perfect world is unrealistic Crime, violence, guns, deaths, gangs When will it slow down
Freedom is a state of mind that I've learned to conquer Through determination, motivation and dedication I let society’s wicked tongue Destroy my resilient figure
Fireworks and champagne to bring in the year, graduates excited because finally college is near. Summer jobs and working long days, isn't easy as a full time student writing 10 essays.
I live in America, a sovereign Nation. I have a home and an education. I know how it feels to have a bedroom at night, with a flick of a switch I have access to light. My family always has food and clean water,
Sitting in a classroom Not knowing what I am going to do -or where I am going to go. I am a senior. I should know what I want to do with my life. I must, before it’s too late.
My generation has been bred into stupidity A government issue codependency High on freedom then drowning in debt I still can’t balance a checkbook yet
Education Boredom slowly creeps upon me, Like a fog on top a hill. My eyes start glazing over,
I like to learn about myself I guess I'm arrogant in that way I guess that My people We pray so that some day We won't have to pray anymore I guess we Made our own culture cause
They want us to educate ourselves Yet when we do, they do everything to prevent it They tell us to go get a job Yet when we do, we are never "qualified for it" They tell us to have more emotion
I'm not a real poet. I 'm just a broke college student, Looking for an easy way to get out of debt. I'm not a real poet. I just want to avoid taking out loans,
Up again, Awake and aching for a change, A shift in the vicious circle, Where life takes all prisoner, And leaves nothing but stones In the ground. Don't make a sound
Essay writing and poem writing Me, myself, and I agree we prefer poems over essays English teacher for senior year made me like poems and understand them. First time poet. I will not disagree with me being an amateur
They throw us all in boxes but want us to come out, We must be creative, innovative, But if my innovation is beyond your comprehension, and my words can't fit into your straight jacket rubric