When I was in fifth grade, I wanted to be a poet.
I wrote a great many until about mid-junior high. Then I quit writing poetry all together. I didn’t really write poetry again until I got into a college form and theory class and wrote some formal poetry for assignments.
Two things I’ve learned:
1. Writing bad poetry is easy.
2. Writing good poetry is so incredibly difficult it’s impossible
But, in the spirit of Flashback Fridays, I am going to share a poem that I wrote in fifth grade. This is the poem that won a class contest and encouraged my desires of being a poet.
Here we go. Remember I wrote this in fifth grade.
A horrible dream with lightening and thunder,
The wind, the rain, goes over and under.
I stand by the window, frightened and scared,
I would run away if only I dared.
I see a book and move over a little,
It opens right to the dead center middle.
I see scary words and they say,
You will die on this day.
Even though it didn’t make sense,
I feared it was true and I grew tense.
I thought the end of my world had come,
But I woke up screaming and knew I was won.
I think that dream might come true some day,
I don’t really know, I cannot say.
What in the world was I trying to say?
(Thank you to a mom and teacher who encouraged me instead of pointing out all my flaws.)