My Need

The people in my class analyzed poetry

With finely sharpened pencils

And color coordinated pens.

                          I don’t understand.

                                          I thought poetry spewed from within,

                                          Without care,

                                          Out of necessity,

                                          Out of the need to rip the bullet from

                                          One’s heart,

                          Out of the need to

                          Save oneself.

 

This poem is about: 
Me

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