What Poetry Has Taught Me

Classmates stare with a judged look in their eye.

It's my turn to speak but nothing comes out.

I hear wispers and can see the frustration in my teacher.

Why is she silent?

My mind racing. 

Heart pounding.

I try to open my mouth but all that comes out is a puff of air.

I am frozen, panicing.

I glance to my friend, a loving positive smile radiates as I am able to take a breath.

I grab a recently writen poem and suddently feel calmer.

No longer am I petrified.

Can I speak.

YES.

Words begin to flow.

As I finish, I look up.

Finally I am understood.