Hatred of Poetry

Eleventh grade was a horrible year.
Horrible class, horrible teacher, horrible subject.
Good morning class, today we are learning about:
Walt Whitman
Emily Dickinson
Robert Frost
Langston Hughs
Oscar Wilde
Unfamiliar names, unfamiliar stories
Not understanding the meaning,
Not understanding their time.
What did that mean, class?
Not a real question, not for a poem
Poems mean nothing and everything at once
For some there is no meaning,
For some a whole world.
Eleventh grade was a great year.
I learned all of that.

Brianna Chicoine