Precious the Poet
Precious the poet, I love the way that sounds that day in the tenth grade, you will never guess what I found it all started when my teacher was not there it was a break from acedemic work, so I did not care I was sitting at a table with a boy with puffy hair this boy was not my friend, so he pretended that I was not sitting there I sat while he rapped I listened, and by the end of the day my poem was written who would have thought that I would be inspired by a boy that simply rapped? to tell you the truth, it was not that bad that night I wrote about my eighth grade crush writing about him gave me such a rush from that point on, I was a future poet and I want everyone to know it I knew that I could use my words to inspire the best thing about words are that they never expire I want my words to spread like a wildfire words of hope, when people are constantly told no! poetry gives me a chance to say yes to help those realize that they are the best to silence those who tell you to stop dreaming, and take a rest I do not want people to listen I want them to remeber the words that I have written use my words as fuel for their fire, and make the critics out of a liar because no words said against us will prosper we will divide, and then we will conquer
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