Internal Research

Who, why, what am I?

These are the questions I ponder daily.

Moving along in life, the hunt continues.

I look at others in their separate lives.

Perhaps they could tell me what I already know

give me clarity on what I and only I possess.

I sit in class, discomforted.

Again, with the repetitious poetry lecture.

How do they expect me to express who I am?

I’ve been pushed down at every attempt by my peers.

The glares don’t speak, but scream at me to stop.

I can’t explain to others what goes on in my brain.

Intellectually I’m lost,

this is a most regular occurrence.

Imagination has a hold of the steering wheel, tight.

Creativity, right?

The land of the unreal, my reality.

Its construction takes place in my mind every day.

Each visit has a new surprise,

this is the place where past memories create future dreams.

My teacher then snaps,

commanding that vice grip attention.

We’ve talked about how I’m confused.

Won’t you just get lost?

The general focus fades away from me,

time to make my desperate escape.

It’s essential to help me hold on to my sanity.

Staying hidden from class the back is turned,

The threat is gone, success soon follows.

I return to my internal research.

Hoping, but not expecting any form of positive result.

I wander with solitude.

Pure emptiness, it’s a blessing to my ears

Trapped in the endless white tiled room.