It started years ago,
In a time much simpler,
When I was young,
My first exposure.

In first grade, I was,
With a teacher and a class,
When I learned,
My first exposure.

This exposure, is why I write,
I enjoy it now,
I didn’t back then,
My first exposure.

Now, I love to write,
It makes me happy,
And completes me,
My first exposure.

An exposure, it was,
An exposure to poetry,
Exposure to culture, life, and love,
My first exposure.

Exposure, like a black and white picture,
Exposure, like a little bit of sunlight,
Exposure, like a little glimpse of darkness.
I was exposed to poetry.

It all happened in first grade,
With a teacher and a class,
That supported me and my thoughts,
they let me write poetry.

I am complete.