Gaah! I take Drama classes dramallama , but I think the teacher is out to get me. She constantly reminds me that I'm failing because of the three assignments we've done. Speaking LOUD and in front of people is not my forte!! Well after having to recite this poem in front of the class, she made me do it again after class when her poetry club came back. AND EVEN THE LIBRARIAN WAS THERE. crying If there was a time to die it was then.
Well, this was what I used:
I'm not a very good Poet.
Rythm comes to me like air to a fish on dry land--which, by the way, doesn't--.
The only times I know are the ones of light and dark.
What words can't say--won't, but should--my lines can and will.
So as you speak in volume I'll draw, paint, mold
Create, louder than a voice ever could.
Lines curving and spiraling and doing things that words can't.
Don't get me wrong, I like poetry, but I'm not a poet.
I can't paint pictures with my mouth
--Thought that would be a cool talent to have if you were paraplegic--.
I don't make words from pictures, I form pictures from words.
After all, my picture's worth a thousand of them.