Ah. I've just finished reading everyone's poem that's out there (in my 5th period class, anyway), and I am impressed. And slightly disappointed. A few people voiced doubts about their own ability to write poetry. But all of the poems I read were really good. Poetry is art, and art is one of the things you don't and can't fail at. It's your own interpretation. Once you've written a poem, you're poetic and a poet. And I'll say it again: all of you guys in my class are superb poets. (Oops, I didn't say that already?)
Now that I've read all your works and got my inferiority complex started up, I shall write more random poems so that I can reach the incredibly high bar of standards you all have set.
I hope you're happy.
These poems can go under the same "Winter Poem" blog post, but they're really just poems:
"The Window"
Wake up to that abstract world of white
Outside the window
The white specks float down gently
Blown every which way
Hither and thither
Making their final landing
On the warm surface
Of a sleeping earth
Just sit up and watch
The snow swirl
The wind may howl
The windows may rattle
But it doesn't matter
Hot chocolate in hand
Swaddled in blankets
The bedside
The windowsill
The couch
The floor
Quiet
Peaceful
Warm
Cozy
Content
Calmly
Gazing out the window
It must be cold outside
For the world to just freeze
Like it does
But it's pleasant here
The world's blanket of white
To this blanket of warm
The world's icy chill
To the fire's heat
Separated
By only an inch
That world
So different from this one
Is just outside the window.
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