My First Poem


My first encounter,

With poetry.

Printed on purple paper

And pasted on the board.

The wet smell of glue

Clung to my hands.

My teacher singing my praises,

"This is wonderful."

The first time I put

Pen to paper

I was ten, and now

Five years later, I've yet to stop.

The first bit of relief

For the problem child.

And the introduction

To the one thing

That gave me worth.

I had no friends,

Did no sports,

No dance lessons.

But I had

A pen,

Some paper

A brain,

And that was enough.