Poetry
Pen in hand
Sheet of paper
Words in mind
But no inspiration
Forget basic sentence structure
Because of free verse
But is it really
Poetry
There is no
Rhyme scheme
No beat
Only clever words
Constructed
This way
There is always a part
of me
That wonders
Do they get it
Do I need to write this
No
I don't need to
And that's why
Just another line
A few more clever words
That hide
My second meaning
Poetry
A secret love
Of mine
I will always
Find a time
to write you
And dream
of the day
Someone will see
You and me
As more than
a girl with a pen
That scribbles out a line
Or two
Or the one who
Always has extra
Notebook paper
Because I
Never know
what will catch
My attention
And steal away
to your words
And you
To be more than
a dreaded part
of high school English
But you
Are patient
Even when you are
A dying great
But you live happily
In my heart