Untitled IX

So I wrote this poem for a scholarship (open topic)…and I had this brilliant idea for it before I actually wrote it. But then it turned out being this short. And I didn’t actualize my thoughts. But it feels complete. And I like it.

…

I don’t normally write poems

Because it’s not my thing;

I write stories, in traditional prose,

Jagged, invisible outlines on

Bright, ruled sheets.

Thousands of blue pages

Hide in my binder, in my folder.

They seem to say:

“Laura, give us a home.

Tell us where we belong.

Give us our space.”

And so I follow their pleas,

With my trusty pen, or pencil, or marker:

Whatever is available to me,

I use to fulfill their needs.