Student Samples: Poetry
This is a small sample of works written by students in my Creativity Workshop during 2012-13. They are reprinted with their permission, and meant to show teachers the variety of topics students choose, the details they use, the imagery they create, and the other lessons reflected in their writing.
Room 452
Deep within the walls of room 452,
Students sit at desks and ponder what to do.
Writing good poetry is what they pursue,
Markers splayed out – red, yellow, blue.
“ABAB format, strong antithesis,
Parallel structure, use a chiasmus!”
Mr. Weinstein preaches without a rest,
Putting their writing skills to the ultimate test
They uncap their markers ready to begin,
Ideas stirring, churning, and turning from within.
Felt tips glide, leaving behind colorful print,
Like a runner breaking into a swift sprint.
Pen tapping, feet fidgeting,
Empty paper, teasing and taunting.
Point touching paper, mind blanking.
The daily challenge of creative writing.
Deep within the walls of room 452,
Students sit at desks and ponder what to do.
Writing good poetry is what they pursue,
Markers splayed out – red, yellow, blue.
“ABAB format, strong antithesis,
Parallel structure, use a chiasmus!”
Mr. Weinstein preaches without a rest,
Putting their writing skills to the ultimate test
They uncap their markers ready to begin,
Ideas stirring, churning, and turning from within.
Felt tips glide, leaving behind colorful print,
Like a runner breaking into a swift sprint.
Pen tapping, feet fidgeting,
Empty paper, teasing and taunting.
Point touching paper, mind blanking.
The daily challenge of creative writing.
Best Friends For Never
Gurlllllll,
Do ya think I’m blind?
You must be buggin’
It doesn’t take a medium
Or some crystal-ball rubbin’
To prove you’re being a sadistic sneak
Hiding your texts so I wouldn’t freak
Knowing all along it’s my ex you seek
B*tch,
My style analysis is AP English deep
And I know that we’re supposed to be “friends”
Since 2nd grade we’ve had to pretend
New girl from NYC you had no shoulder to lend
My presence a threat so your pride you’d defend
With words like fly-swatters intended to condescend
I kept quiet in hopes of making amends
Now I’m so over that forced formality
We’re big girls now
Your majesty
Quit obsessin’ over vanity
It’s war
So get your cavalry
Shield that plastic personality
But when it comes down to
You and me
You’ll never compare
There’s no analogy
Gurlllllll,
Do ya think I’m blind?
You must be buggin’
It doesn’t take a medium
Or some crystal-ball rubbin’
To prove you’re being a sadistic sneak
Hiding your texts so I wouldn’t freak
Knowing all along it’s my ex you seek
B*tch,
My style analysis is AP English deep
And I know that we’re supposed to be “friends”
Since 2nd grade we’ve had to pretend
New girl from NYC you had no shoulder to lend
My presence a threat so your pride you’d defend
With words like fly-swatters intended to condescend
I kept quiet in hopes of making amends
Now I’m so over that forced formality
We’re big girls now
Your majesty
Quit obsessin’ over vanity
It’s war
So get your cavalry
Shield that plastic personality
But when it comes down to
You and me
You’ll never compare
There’s no analogy
Part One
I remember all the days
When we would play catch
Right after school
It would be springtime
And you were home early
We'd play for hours
And school and other obligations
Didn't matter
This was our time
Something just the two of us shared
And we'd stay out there
Until it was dark
Until we couldn't see the ball anymore
And then you were gone
5th grade was hard
because vicodin, percosset, and Guinness took my dad away
to Pennsylvania
then Boca
and for 6 months
the worst 6 months of my life
I waited
For You
To get better
Reconcile
Stop this divorce
And then -
Part Two
- you did.
You can back into my life
Back into OUR life
You were different now
Something had changed
You attitude had been exchanged
You were so much HAPPIER
Everything cold and cruel
Melted away
You were rehabilitated
Your love was renewed
We were together once more
And next year
When springtime came
I grabbed a ball and my mitt
To play catch again.
I remember all the days
When we would play catch
Right after school
It would be springtime
And you were home early
We'd play for hours
And school and other obligations
Didn't matter
This was our time
Something just the two of us shared
And we'd stay out there
Until it was dark
Until we couldn't see the ball anymore
And then you were gone
5th grade was hard
because vicodin, percosset, and Guinness took my dad away
to Pennsylvania
then Boca
and for 6 months
the worst 6 months of my life
I waited
For You
To get better
Reconcile
Stop this divorce
And then -
Part Two
- you did.
You can back into my life
Back into OUR life
You were different now
Something had changed
You attitude had been exchanged
You were so much HAPPIER
Everything cold and cruel
Melted away
You were rehabilitated
Your love was renewed
We were together once more
And next year
When springtime came
I grabbed a ball and my mitt
To play catch again.
To The Promised Land
They were brought down
Down to the pits of the darkest spectrum
Beyond a trace of relief, a glimmer of hope
They were menaced, chided, and turned
Beaten, battered, and burned
Brought down past the shadow of God
Down so far that the great big blue sky
Appeared no more than a drop of rain
Falling farther and farther away
Down so far that their air
The air that at once sustained them
Suffocated their still selves
Yet
They were resurrected
Brought out past the charred chasm
That held them from their glory
Brought back into the light
From a deep depth to a high height
They soared
Back to the Promised Land.
*This poem is about the Jewish people building themselves back up after the Holocaust.
They were brought down
Down to the pits of the darkest spectrum
Beyond a trace of relief, a glimmer of hope
They were menaced, chided, and turned
Beaten, battered, and burned
Brought down past the shadow of God
Down so far that the great big blue sky
Appeared no more than a drop of rain
Falling farther and farther away
Down so far that their air
The air that at once sustained them
Suffocated their still selves
Yet
They were resurrected
Brought out past the charred chasm
That held them from their glory
Brought back into the light
From a deep depth to a high height
They soared
Back to the Promised Land.
*This poem is about the Jewish people building themselves back up after the Holocaust.
That Time
Written by an English as a Second Language student
I thought it was ok for my mom
To work her butt off to death.
I thought it was ok for my mom
To eat cold rice alone in a dusky kitchen.
I thought it was ok for my mom
To wash dishes with freezing water.
I thought everything was ok
Because she did not say anything.
“I am not hungry. I don’t feel like it.”
Feeding us, while she was starving.
She never said: “I’m hungry.”
After one forlorn night,
Under an unusually bright moon light,
A woman who had always been strong
Was hiding a gush of tears.
Not as a mother of children
But as a weak emotional woman.
My mom was crying.
I finally realized “ok” was not really “ok.”
Now I want to say to her
To you
All the words I have saved for my life.
The words I keep deep in my heart
Like your gush of tears.
The words I could not say
Because of my unnecessary pride.
I want to spit out these words:
I Love You.
Written by an English as a Second Language student
I thought it was ok for my mom
To work her butt off to death.
I thought it was ok for my mom
To eat cold rice alone in a dusky kitchen.
I thought it was ok for my mom
To wash dishes with freezing water.
I thought everything was ok
Because she did not say anything.
“I am not hungry. I don’t feel like it.”
Feeding us, while she was starving.
She never said: “I’m hungry.”
After one forlorn night,
Under an unusually bright moon light,
A woman who had always been strong
Was hiding a gush of tears.
Not as a mother of children
But as a weak emotional woman.
My mom was crying.
I finally realized “ok” was not really “ok.”
Now I want to say to her
To you
All the words I have saved for my life.
The words I keep deep in my heart
Like your gush of tears.
The words I could not say
Because of my unnecessary pride.
I want to spit out these words:
I Love You.
More Addicting Than Meth
It’s just a T.V show, that’s what they say
But its something that I need to get through my day
Just a little fix, an episode or two
I think it's more addicting than some of that blue*
A perfect T.V. show, no doubt about that
Never once has it ever fallen flat
Cliffhangers keep me going, deep into the night
As I watch the adventures of Good Ole Mr.White
Breaking Bad is this show, which occupies me
As I watch these two cook meth in their R.V
A chemistry teacher, his life gone astray
As cancer continues to keep coming his way
This show is addictive, there are times I can’t cease
From watching this show and going to sleep
It helps me procrastinate and blow off my work
And it often gives me a nice little smirk
*The meth that Walter White produces is a distinctive blue color and very addicting.
It’s just a T.V show, that’s what they say
But its something that I need to get through my day
Just a little fix, an episode or two
I think it's more addicting than some of that blue*
A perfect T.V. show, no doubt about that
Never once has it ever fallen flat
Cliffhangers keep me going, deep into the night
As I watch the adventures of Good Ole Mr.White
Breaking Bad is this show, which occupies me
As I watch these two cook meth in their R.V
A chemistry teacher, his life gone astray
As cancer continues to keep coming his way
This show is addictive, there are times I can’t cease
From watching this show and going to sleep
It helps me procrastinate and blow off my work
And it often gives me a nice little smirk
*The meth that Walter White produces is a distinctive blue color and very addicting.
Pretty
I’m trying to write a poem about you
But all that comes to mind is pretty,
Pretty pretty you are so much more than just
Pretty pretty you are
Pretty
If I tried to tell you,
Would you laugh that pretty pretty laugh
Of yours or would you be pretty perplexed
Looking ever so pretty pretty as you tell me to shut up
You could tell me to shut up or that
These words are just words and not a poem, and
All I could tell you is that you’re pretty pretty
But now that I’ve written pretty at least a thousand times
It doesn’t look like a word anymore, Ms. More Than Pretty Pretty
Doesn’t need me anymore
I’m trying to write a poem about you
But all that comes to mind is pretty,
Pretty pretty you are so much more than just
Pretty pretty you are
Pretty
If I tried to tell you,
Would you laugh that pretty pretty laugh
Of yours or would you be pretty perplexed
Looking ever so pretty pretty as you tell me to shut up
You could tell me to shut up or that
These words are just words and not a poem, and
All I could tell you is that you’re pretty pretty
But now that I’ve written pretty at least a thousand times
It doesn’t look like a word anymore, Ms. More Than Pretty Pretty
Doesn’t need me anymore
Gotta letter in the mail
YES!
We finally made it bro!
We had to undergo
Essay writings and applications,
But now we are in celebration!
Who would ever thought Korean fob
Will kick the a**es of all those snobs
who try to get to your spot.
But, nah we are the one who dance fox-trot.
I remember Thanksgiving of last November
I came back from a cousin’s in Westchester
I have a mailbox to check
I opened and what the heck?
An envelope from Cornell
Hmm... I can already smell,
A scent of victory.
I opened it boldly
But wait, there is no letter?
Oh no, there is something better.
CONGRATULATIONS!
*GASP*
Hyperventilation.
I could not breathe,
a sense of relief
that one of us going to Ivy.
Now, I can go Army or Navy
Ha!
What, mom?
Columbia what?
Mom? What?
I have to go to Columbia?
I don’t hear you!
YES!
We finally made it bro!
We had to undergo
Essay writings and applications,
But now we are in celebration!
Who would ever thought Korean fob
Will kick the a**es of all those snobs
who try to get to your spot.
But, nah we are the one who dance fox-trot.
I remember Thanksgiving of last November
I came back from a cousin’s in Westchester
I have a mailbox to check
I opened and what the heck?
An envelope from Cornell
Hmm... I can already smell,
A scent of victory.
I opened it boldly
But wait, there is no letter?
Oh no, there is something better.
CONGRATULATIONS!
*GASP*
Hyperventilation.
I could not breathe,
a sense of relief
that one of us going to Ivy.
Now, I can go Army or Navy
Ha!
What, mom?
Columbia what?
Mom? What?
I have to go to Columbia?
I don’t hear you!
Aftermath
Mourning Echo
Grief Overflow
Feeling Empty
Lost Alone
Gunman’s Rampage
School in Danger
Children Shot
Newtown Massacre
Cope with Sadness
Adorned Flowers
Collected messages
In Memory of the Loved
For the Community
Expansive Congregation
Plan to Push
Chance for Change
But Nothing Changes
Until Tragedy Unfolds
Until Hearts Broken
And Never the Same
*Found poem from “Newtown’s Sandy Hook Section Draws Hundreds of Visitors” by Brock Vergakis and Katie Zezima. Huffington Post, 12/24/12.
Mourning Echo
Grief Overflow
Feeling Empty
Lost Alone
Gunman’s Rampage
School in Danger
Children Shot
Newtown Massacre
Cope with Sadness
Adorned Flowers
Collected messages
In Memory of the Loved
For the Community
Expansive Congregation
Plan to Push
Chance for Change
But Nothing Changes
Until Tragedy Unfolds
Until Hearts Broken
And Never the Same
*Found poem from “Newtown’s Sandy Hook Section Draws Hundreds of Visitors” by Brock Vergakis and Katie Zezima. Huffington Post, 12/24/12.
I Wish you Left a Note
I wish you left a note
Right by your window side
Near ashy dreams
And soot for seams
Where onto it I cried
I wish you left a note
Before you took your life
Before the one
Before the sun
Before the stars could rise
I wish you left a note
And in it you would say
“It’s not your fault
I chose to fall
It’s me who they would slay”
I wish you left a note
Next to your hanging noose
Next to your coke
Next to your meth
Next to your drug abuse
I wish you left a note
For all your bullies here
For Jake, for Jon
For Tim, for Tom
Who drove you into fear
I wish you left a note
For me right here today
For fists, for kicks
For stones, for sticks
For you and you being gay
I wish you left a note
Right by your window side
Near ashy dreams
And soot for seams
Where onto it I cried
I wish you left a note
Before you took your life
Before the one
Before the sun
Before the stars could rise
I wish you left a note
And in it you would say
“It’s not your fault
I chose to fall
It’s me who they would slay”
I wish you left a note
Next to your hanging noose
Next to your coke
Next to your meth
Next to your drug abuse
I wish you left a note
For all your bullies here
For Jake, for Jon
For Tim, for Tom
Who drove you into fear
I wish you left a note
For me right here today
For fists, for kicks
For stones, for sticks
For you and you being gay
The Princess And The Lie
The princess lay awake in her bed
A flutter in her stomach; a pounding in her head.
The king and queen climbed the stairs
And the princess heard them enter her lair.
She tucked her face under her sheets,
Away from her parents, pretending to sleep.
But over her body, the two stood firm,
Their bodies stiff; their faces stern.
They waited for the princess to open her eyes
And for her to expose her numerous lies.
“From the ball last night, who brought you back
And how did you really get that bruise on your neck?”
The princess remembered the lies that she told,
That a duke the king trusted was to take her back home.
But instead she had left the ball for a bash,
A party her ex-lover allowed her to crash.
And his horse-drawn carriage had take her to
Her cold, dark castle – an hour past curfew.
And a lamp had not fallen and left her the clot –
But her prince had kissed her too much in that spot.
The princess knew what she did was not right,
But if she told the truth, she’d go nowhere that night!
Without knowing how, the princess was busted
And the truth spilled out from the daughter they trusted.
The princess lay awake in her bed
A flutter in her stomach; a pounding in her head.
The king and queen climbed the stairs
And the princess heard them enter her lair.
She tucked her face under her sheets,
Away from her parents, pretending to sleep.
But over her body, the two stood firm,
Their bodies stiff; their faces stern.
They waited for the princess to open her eyes
And for her to expose her numerous lies.
“From the ball last night, who brought you back
And how did you really get that bruise on your neck?”
The princess remembered the lies that she told,
That a duke the king trusted was to take her back home.
But instead she had left the ball for a bash,
A party her ex-lover allowed her to crash.
And his horse-drawn carriage had take her to
Her cold, dark castle – an hour past curfew.
And a lamp had not fallen and left her the clot –
But her prince had kissed her too much in that spot.
The princess knew what she did was not right,
But if she told the truth, she’d go nowhere that night!
Without knowing how, the princess was busted
And the truth spilled out from the daughter they trusted.
I Am More than A Grade
God your sweetness pervades the spaces of my being
An unconditional love ripples through the tingling
Of my stomach when fear surges to the surface
But the soft streams and waves of your current
Wash over the doubts I falsely keep about myself
Will I do well, can I excel?
Those questions soothed with the spell
Of God’s support as he nurtures, comforts and quells
The different doubts I falsely keep about myself
I can succeed, I trust that I can!
Overcome and transcend obstacles by being hand in hand
With my father who liberates me from negative thoughts and actions
The one who is always there when reactions
Spill in my direction, those situations only emerging a sense of compassion
A sense of pure wishes, a sense of good feelings
To give God’s love to every heart from the core of my being
His love is truly one of a kind
His love makes every heart unite
For after all, we are all sweetly tied
By the thread of God’s love that flows like the tide
God your sweetness pervades the spaces of my being
An unconditional love ripples through the tingling
Of my stomach when fear surges to the surface
But the soft streams and waves of your current
Wash over the doubts I falsely keep about myself
Will I do well, can I excel?
Those questions soothed with the spell
Of God’s support as he nurtures, comforts and quells
The different doubts I falsely keep about myself
I can succeed, I trust that I can!
Overcome and transcend obstacles by being hand in hand
With my father who liberates me from negative thoughts and actions
The one who is always there when reactions
Spill in my direction, those situations only emerging a sense of compassion
A sense of pure wishes, a sense of good feelings
To give God’s love to every heart from the core of my being
His love is truly one of a kind
His love makes every heart unite
For after all, we are all sweetly tied
By the thread of God’s love that flows like the tide
Dear Diary
Dear Diary,
I’ve been thinking of Andy a lot lately, and I want to give up on him
Dear Diary,
Today, I asked Michelle to help me give up on him, and she’s introducing me to someone who she says is my type!!! Maybe I will forget about Andy once and for all…?
Dear Diary,
I really did forget about Andy. I’m no longer talking about him, thinking about him, pining for him… I’m talking about Branden, thinking about Branden, pining for Branden…
Dear Diary,
Squeal~ I don’t get how he manages to fit perfectly in my ideal type of guy. Maybe he’s the one…?
Dear Diary,
Today’s Branden’s birthday! I wrote him a poem, Pursuit of Happiness!
Dear Diary,
I was at Michelle’s house just last week, had our first video chat because my webcam and mic sucks, and Michelle and Bobby tried to give us some “privacy”…
Dear Diary,
I don’t know what to do… after our video chat, Branden sees that Michelle and Bobby were trying to set us up… he just rejected me, with the suspicions that I liked him, even without me confessing to him…
Dear Diary,
Awkwardness, avoidance, acceptance. It’s over now. We’re just friends now, and we’re probably going to be only friends. I only hope we can just be good friends like before. Should I give up on him?
Dear Diary,
OMG, I just found out that Branden has an unrequited love! Who is it? I asked Michelle to IM Branden who she is, and, and, and…
Dear Diary,
It’s her. It’s Michelle.
Dear Diary,
What is going to happen now? Branden’s been avoiding both Michelle and me on Skype… he’s almost never offline!
Dear Diary,
Should I give up on him? Should I cut off all romantic fantasies?
Dear Diary,
I will be good friends with him. Only time can tell if we are meant to be…
Or not. It’s time for me to pursue my own happiness.
Dear Diary,
I’ve been thinking of Andy a lot lately, and I want to give up on him
Dear Diary,
Today, I asked Michelle to help me give up on him, and she’s introducing me to someone who she says is my type!!! Maybe I will forget about Andy once and for all…?
Dear Diary,
I really did forget about Andy. I’m no longer talking about him, thinking about him, pining for him… I’m talking about Branden, thinking about Branden, pining for Branden…
Dear Diary,
Squeal~ I don’t get how he manages to fit perfectly in my ideal type of guy. Maybe he’s the one…?
Dear Diary,
Today’s Branden’s birthday! I wrote him a poem, Pursuit of Happiness!
Dear Diary,
I was at Michelle’s house just last week, had our first video chat because my webcam and mic sucks, and Michelle and Bobby tried to give us some “privacy”…
Dear Diary,
I don’t know what to do… after our video chat, Branden sees that Michelle and Bobby were trying to set us up… he just rejected me, with the suspicions that I liked him, even without me confessing to him…
Dear Diary,
Awkwardness, avoidance, acceptance. It’s over now. We’re just friends now, and we’re probably going to be only friends. I only hope we can just be good friends like before. Should I give up on him?
Dear Diary,
OMG, I just found out that Branden has an unrequited love! Who is it? I asked Michelle to IM Branden who she is, and, and, and…
Dear Diary,
It’s her. It’s Michelle.
Dear Diary,
What is going to happen now? Branden’s been avoiding both Michelle and me on Skype… he’s almost never offline!
Dear Diary,
Should I give up on him? Should I cut off all romantic fantasies?
Dear Diary,
I will be good friends with him. Only time can tell if we are meant to be…
Or not. It’s time for me to pursue my own happiness.
I Hate Sonnets
I despise the way these lines must rhyme
This sonnet seems to bite my behind
My story will be revealed through time
As long as I can keep my state of mind
Why must I write this way?
Sonnets always sound the same
As I write my mind begins to stray
I keep thinking: this is so lame!
This poem seems to be so plain
It’s almost over, just a few more lines
All this stress is going to my brain
Please allow there to be no fines
The end of this suffering finally has come
These past two hours have been real glum
I despise the way these lines must rhyme
This sonnet seems to bite my behind
My story will be revealed through time
As long as I can keep my state of mind
Why must I write this way?
Sonnets always sound the same
As I write my mind begins to stray
I keep thinking: this is so lame!
This poem seems to be so plain
It’s almost over, just a few more lines
All this stress is going to my brain
Please allow there to be no fines
The end of this suffering finally has come
These past two hours have been real glum
A Loss of Empathy
You asked me to be your
superhero
So I took that leap to
stop a blade, catch a bullet, save a life
And I tried to defy gravity
for a friend
who just need a little help.
But unbeknownst to me, as I
tried my best to be what you needed,
You crept up behind and:
slashed
slashed
slashed
at my wings of white and
stained them red and though I tried to fly again, I just
fell to where you had been.
“Help me,” you begged, with pleading eyes and pale lips
Lifting your hands to the great above
Yet when I grabbed ahold and tried to lift,
you planted your feet firmer and laughed at my attempt.
I played tug-of-war with the Devil, your old friend
while you refused to let go of his fiery hands.
You described it like drowning,
a sea of doubts and regrets and pain
and some days you just couldn’t breathe.
I waded out to throw you a rope,
and you yanked me closer
Waiting until I could barely stay afloat
Before turning and
diving deeper
Into a sea you’d made with your own tears
Leaving me to fight an ocean I’d never seen before.
Nothing I did was ever enough, and you made it clear
that I was failing
(Or perhaps, that you were succeeding)
You pushed me away and expected that I grovel for your acceptance –
Just wanted to be wanted, and needed to be needed
And I fell for your stupid tricks and guilt trips
God, what a fool.
We could’ve done it together
The fighting spirit you refused to acknowledge
was stronger than you ever allowed
We could’ve turn back time’s cruel hands and erased the damage the world had done
But you refused, and after the world left you alone,
you picked up the knife and continued the work it had abandoned.
I could’ve born the buffets and the blows
of cruel bullies or abusive parents or heartbreaking boys
But not the strikes you dealt yourself, that you carved
on your own heart from the inside out.
Sadness was your best friend, and when you tried to replace her
she clung to you harder and you didn’t resist
Knowing from the beginning what I refused to accept:
I was fighting an
impossible
battle, for
You never wanted anyone to save your life
You just needed someone to die trying.
You asked me to be your
superhero
So I took that leap to
stop a blade, catch a bullet, save a life
And I tried to defy gravity
for a friend
who just need a little help.
But unbeknownst to me, as I
tried my best to be what you needed,
You crept up behind and:
slashed
slashed
slashed
at my wings of white and
stained them red and though I tried to fly again, I just
fell to where you had been.
“Help me,” you begged, with pleading eyes and pale lips
Lifting your hands to the great above
Yet when I grabbed ahold and tried to lift,
you planted your feet firmer and laughed at my attempt.
I played tug-of-war with the Devil, your old friend
while you refused to let go of his fiery hands.
You described it like drowning,
a sea of doubts and regrets and pain
and some days you just couldn’t breathe.
I waded out to throw you a rope,
and you yanked me closer
Waiting until I could barely stay afloat
Before turning and
diving deeper
Into a sea you’d made with your own tears
Leaving me to fight an ocean I’d never seen before.
Nothing I did was ever enough, and you made it clear
that I was failing
(Or perhaps, that you were succeeding)
You pushed me away and expected that I grovel for your acceptance –
Just wanted to be wanted, and needed to be needed
And I fell for your stupid tricks and guilt trips
God, what a fool.
We could’ve done it together
The fighting spirit you refused to acknowledge
was stronger than you ever allowed
We could’ve turn back time’s cruel hands and erased the damage the world had done
But you refused, and after the world left you alone,
you picked up the knife and continued the work it had abandoned.
I could’ve born the buffets and the blows
of cruel bullies or abusive parents or heartbreaking boys
But not the strikes you dealt yourself, that you carved
on your own heart from the inside out.
Sadness was your best friend, and when you tried to replace her
she clung to you harder and you didn’t resist
Knowing from the beginning what I refused to accept:
I was fighting an
impossible
battle, for
You never wanted anyone to save your life
You just needed someone to die trying.