Poem 1: Scared beyond measure

I am scared beyond measure. My fighting words strike fear into the hearts of nonexistent tormentors: the antagonists that lurk beneath the deepest trenches of my being. They prod at me with sharpened words. I hold the blood in, hoping it becomes a battle scar. 

My sword is bloodied and broken. A day taken and slain is left beneath my feet. Another looms in the horizon with amber eyes and sharpened teeth.

 I collapse on the ground triumphant, victorious, and defeated. I rise before a soul witnesses I have fallen. 

 I run forth once again screaming into battle. Sword drawn, heart ablaze, scared beyond measure. 

 The darkness recedes just a little. 






I wrote this during my first few weeks of teaching. I'm on Month 5 now. It's a lot of fun, but I also can't wait until year 2 starts.

Bye for now,

Mr. Mento


Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Four Months

I have taught professionally for four months. I possess more money than I ever knew existed. I am friends with many adults above the age of 30. I call them by their first names. I go weeks without hanging out with friends and am okay with it. I miss my parents. I sometimes have to deal with interpersonal conflicts with students that cause me extreme levels of anxiety. I try not to let it show. My best friend is my coworker who is married and has children and tells me in kind terms to stop being a little pansy and love my job when students make me not love it. My problems are my own, which is isolating. Everyone around me is supportive, which is less so. Eight more months before I've done it all once. Eight more months until my second year. I think a lot about how okay I am with a typical life. I feel like I matter a lot less, which is a weight off my shoulders. I should call my grandparents. When I do, they sound like they are about to cry. Every time. I th
Read more