PoemsBrowse PoemsSlamsFresh DropEchoes
LearnWriting TipsPoetry TermsPoets & ArtistsBooksFor Teachers
ExplorePoetry GenomePoem MapEchoesTake ActionGroups
AboutWrite a PoemDonateSign UpLog In

5 Years Young


Year one, day one;

This class is not how I expected it

College.

Where are all the cute guys and alcohol.

That's what I saw on TV.

Why am I scared, nervous

I wasn't like this in 

high school.

I hold back on

myself

my life.

I hide in my dorm

I don't know anybody

no body wants to know about me

I say to myself.

Thought poison.

This intimidation keeps me to myself for 

one, two, three, four...

 

Year five

and a handful of degree changes later

I'm powerful and unafraid

attractive hipster graphic design teacher

hello.

I'd like to be like you.

A professor

so I can reach out to students that were like me

one, two, three, four, five years ago

and teach them the beauty about themselves

and of education

and that if they open themself to the world they will find their strengths

and will do whatever it takes to pursue their passion.

Spring 2014 I'm going to walk with my classmates

and accept that diploma.

I can taste it.

 

©All Rights Reserved

Something wrong with this poem?

Share

Replies are closed for this poem.

Your Poem's Voice

See what makes your poem unique — its voice, energy, themes, and the literary traditions it draws from.

Comments (0)

No comments yet. Be the first to share your thoughts.

Log in to leave a comment.