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He asked me to write a poem
October 11, 2016
He asked me to write a poem
I said I don’t like poems
He replied softly “well”
Well I asked what could that mean
I pondered that thought everyday
Waiting for an answer
But that day never came
I could not tame
My thoughts never at ease
So I stopped and thought over and over again
For the meaning well
Never the same
But on that dreadful day
My meaning soon hit me
As I rushed to the old man
To find death became him
© Nina F., Roanoke Rapids, NC
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I wrote this piece going into thinking that I am bad a poems and that I hate them.