Sitting here in this red chair
Listening to my teacher
Tell me what I need to write about
An experience and how I felt
But I don't want to
I want to write a poem
Just not about an experience
I want to write about how I hurt
About how I hate it when someone
Tells me to "Smile"
Because whenever I don't smile
It's because I have a FLIPPIN' good
Reason not to
I want to write about how I hate it
When someone turns my music down
Because that's the only thing keeping
Me calm and relaxed
And keeping me from ripping their
Throats out
I want to write
About my feet hurting
About my teeth
About my anger
Towards my sister
My father
Everyone
About my anger towards someone
When all they expect me to do is be
Their dairy
About how one person can't show me
A slice of respect
I want to write a poem about how I
Hurt
How I throw on that invisible mask
That everyone thinks they can see
Through
But when I throw on the mask
They're just as blind as I am
I want to write my own personal poem And not have to share it with every Person In my class
But instead of writing a poem about
How it feels like fire is consuming my
Feet
I complain
Instead of writing about how irritation
Washes over me every single second of
Every single day
I complain
Instead of writing about how I'm being
Skinned alive when I'm mistreated
I complain
I want to write what I want
Instead I'm writing a poem about an
Experience and how I felt
Just like my teacher said so