Reid@YWP

Poetry has a silent power 

In the way that poets 

don’t need words to communicate 

With one another; 

We simply see a wildflower 

"Ew, you're being so gay."

So being gay is illegal now?

"Dude, stop faking it."

Do you want me to change?

"What happened to you to make you feel this way? It must have been awful."

Autumn, she is melancholy. The wind in the trees is louder, the leaves gone and withered, leaving less privacy for the forest.

Lush and light

and born in summer

blue and bright

thine eyes of slumber

in clover to be

of citrus and green

with luck of four

For 12 years of our lives, we are put in this place. 

This place is where our energy slowly drains from our bodies. 

The work that we do slowly gets harder and harder