Why do I feel
Like many of the people
Who are successful
Are
Snakes
...
Okay,
Snakes is way more
Negative a word than
I’d like to use

Many of my friends fit
The description I’m about to give
And I like to think
I sometimes
Do
Too

When I say snakes
I’m referring to those
Who will advocate
Push
Shove
Even when their obstacle
Is a person
To get what they want

They’re the person
Who plays two sports every day
In the spring
To keep up with their fall sport

They use their free period
For another class
Just because they
truly
Want to take
The class

They stalk
The teacher
When they don’t
Get something
Or they read external
Information
Related to the subject
Online

They can be annoying
Rude

Can have ulterior motives
Inquiring about grades
To secretly
Rejoice

Or,

Clench a fist
In frustration

My dad says,
I don’t have that
Burning desire yet

I’m not a snake quite yet

But,
From what I’ve
Observed

To really have success
One
Has to
Be
A
Snake

I was eating a cookie
But it was too hard
...
So I put it in
The microwave
For a minute
...
...
And guess what?
It worked!

The poems
That mean the most
To me
Are my most personal
Individualistic
Ones

But the ones
That are the most popular
Happen to be the
Most general ones
Writtin in a whim
Easy,
To empathize with
...
It makes sense if you think about it

She comes to class and goes
“There’s bees in my Head”
Then pulls out
Another mug
Of coffee
Which happens
To be the cause

Another comes
Face on the verge of tears
“He did it again!”
We all know who
“He” is
Then proceeds to
Accept hugs
While giving
An in depth narration

Another comes in
“I’m, just, dying”
She proceeds to get
More hugs
While another friend
Calls her “hot”
And she insists she’s not

The fourth comes in
She’s been sacrificing
Her free time
To attend this class
And her sad tired smile
Says it all
She gets hugs too

And here I am
In the middle
Suffocated
...
Am I emotionally immature?
Am I too much of a cynic?
Is it me, or is it them?
Am I just different?
Or too self conscious?
...
Why do they have so many problems?
...
Then class starts
And I turn to our model,
A plastic skeleton dubbed
-Bony Bonez

And lose myself
In the charcoal