This poem will be posted right about the same time I will be reading it in my 3rd period A.P. English 4 class. We were supposed to write a three stanza, “ABAB” rhyme scheme poem in one day. This is what I got.

Dim, empty, the room sits still,

the soft cushion is pleasing to the touch.

Silent, the television pries to change my will.

Turn off. Within the room, it finds out it’s too much.

The flashing colors, absorbed by my face.

My mind is not empty, it’s focused on movements.

Focused on the movies, controller, the poison in which it’s laced.

You have no way to possibly prove it.

But alas, I’m content; happy to be alive.

The days move like birds, scraping over the sea.

But the days in this room in which I’m confined,

it, is the best place to be.