A/N: I chose to write an essay of my choice because the college of my choice does not require an essay. I wrote this essay for my English class as I would any other assignment rather than preparing this essay for a college board. It is because of this that I am sad to say that this essay was written for no reason. My teacher, though very well learned, looked at this essay as an essay, not a poem as I intended it to be. I have thus written a new essay for her and have posted this in hopes someone with an eye for poetry can appreciate this as I had hoped my teacher would have.

Anxious. My pen is poised over a plain piece of paper. I sit silently, searching the scattered scraps of sentiment sluggishly surfacing in the shallows of my imagination. The words flow from me like water in a winter's stream. A sense of urgency rushes and rolls through my raging rivers of thought. My inability to create consumes me with anxious anticipation.

Determined. I conquer the crater left in my consciousness filled only with casual statements, lacking creative cries. Flowers of fantasy and flighty feelings sprout wild in the fields of fiction. I grab hold of the gnarled grubs as they grow and guide me to my goal. The soaring, shining songs of my sanctuary leave me dangerously determined.

Relieved. Well thought words and wandering whimseys no longer wallow but whisk wondrously to the page. They fill the empty slate with ease as their elegance echos the musings of my mind. Iridescent images translate to vibrant vernacular and passionately portray themselves in ways I thought impossible. Describing my dizzying daydreams allows me to be radically relieved.

Gratified. Absent are the arbitrary nuisances that nagged at my attention, needing to be noted. Mercifully my tenacious tendrils of meaningless phrases have magically transformed into mesmerizing lines. Incomplete idiocies have been instructed in becoming intelligent sentences. Victoriously valiant are my words leading me to feel graciously gratified.

Exhilarated. Tentatively telling others my tall tales, I train myself in tolerating traumatic and terse criticism. Naturally my nerves are dispelled as pleasant niceties are noted by my audience. The praise of others elates me and enables me to be enormously exhilarated.