Today I argued about a poem I wrote,
I was proud of this poem I wrote,
But was this a poem a poem?

They said not.
I called it free verse,
they called it a story.
I said it was descriptive,
they said I don't see it sorry.

I showed this poem to someone else who said it was a poem.
This person was my music teacher,
who teaches I.B. English,
they said my poem was fine.

To Day I walked home from school and I saw a bus,
This bus was full of people but it displayed,
not in service.

so now I wonder what makes a poem,
what makes a bus in-service?

It is weeks after now,
I have answered my question.

A poem is what we make it to be,
the bus and I are poetic,
though a city bus doesn't write.
It still made poetry.

So my dear people,
do you remember Shakespeare?
He broke the rules of English so often,
His words became the rules.

If you remember what this man once said,
Then the question, you will understand.
I have asked it differently,
his answer was incomplete.

To be,
Or not to be?
But to agree or not agree.

that is the question.
that is poetry.