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Create A Day

One creative project every day for a year

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Feb-17-2011

Day 16: Poem

Posted by annagrace under Days 1-100

Last year I took a poetry class. I enjoy poetry quite a bit, and have written some poetry in my day, so I thought that it would be a good option to fill my Creative Writing requirement. In this class, we had to write a poem every week, according to whatever theme the teacher decided upon, and every other week we had to read our poem out loud and have the class critique it. This was a painful experience in a lot of ways at first. Poetry, to me, had always been a means of expressing my emotions and to have my poems ripped apart meant having my emotions and thoughts ripped apart as well. My class in particular was very opinionated because most of them were English majors of some sort… as compared to little old Interior Design major me. But after a few weeks, I realized that a lot of them had very valid points that I certainly took into consideration, but also that I was the ultimate judge and it really didn’t matter what they thought. I ended up with what I thought was a pretty decent portfolio with a wide variety of styles. I learned a lot in that class about poetry, but also a lot about myself.

At any rate, for today’s project I decided to write a poem. In the class, we never gave any background to the poems we presented, so as to see what impression it gave to the readers, so I will do the same now.

Self-Season

Light glistens off her dewey lashes,

As the first light of spring,

Peeks through the cloak of winter.

Her damp cheeks redden at the thought:

A new season of the year,

Of herself.

The sun’s rays appear like a handkerchief,

And dab away her tears.

Tears of pain.

Tears of heartbreak.

The unstoppable geyser plugged,

Replaced with a knowing smile and,

A bright eyed gaze,

Into the future,

And the bliss it holds.

Her path is as clear,

As the bright spring sky.

Cleared of the obstacles;

Self-doubt,

Self-loathing,

Loneliness;

Now full of petals of hope,

Energy,

And strength.

A scattered bouquet,

Floating,

Her personal mantra,

For the new season of,

Herself.

Anna Grace