e.e. cummings, Frost, Maya Angelou, Poe, poem, poetry, unique
I am no Maya My shoulders have carried troubles but my burdens are nothing like hers. Neither race nor class created my bars that caged me Rather My own uncreativity Locked me in And taught me to sing. I am no Poe Although I tried to be I clung to dreams like sand that slipped through damaged hands Cried tears for love lost Held on at all cost Before I finally found my voice And a new way to grasp onto hope. I am no e.e. Visionary yes (with much to offer zigzags on pages wings flapping words about) but his style just ain't me. I am no Frost My paths trodden and roads well-traveled leave me with senses of lingering, lost As the hourglass slowly unravels on Revealing to me right and wrong Yet still I must continue moving on For all that I've yet to do And all that's left to be done. Unique is what I am Rhythm and meter and line Within my stanzas you'll find hidden meanings and hidden rhymes I wax (philosophically) in code Some day classes will dissect my works like Shakespeare searching for sneaky metaphors and the keys to break my cryptic kingdom. I am a work in evolving progress towards my very own poetic process.