I AM My First Memory

Oh, I know who I am.

It's hard to forget.

I will never regret

what fortunately lets

there be freedom of press.

 

Oh, I remember it well

Little me

Only three

Little me

Sitting

 

At the family table

In the den

Holding a pen

Paper in hand

And right then

 

I decided to write

My own name

No shame

A word game

I wanted to play

 

"Is this how you do it?"

I yell at mommy

The second she saw me

 filled with straight glee

hearts both set free

 

Since always, a writer

From the day I had ignite

A strange desire to write

Soul set free to flight

New World, now with light

 

So yes, I know who I am

I'm my first discovery

My realization of identity

My first memory.

Sweet first memory.  

 

This poem is about: 
Me
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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