I am me

Tue, 10/13/2015 - 13:16 -- SRose67

Who am I you may ask? That’s a good question. I could be a teacher, a painter, dancer, or a mother.

I could be lots of things. But to answer your question

I am the girl who never raises her hand when she knows the answer in class, the quiet person in the back of the room.  I am the one who walks around with her head down, the one nobody knows. I am the person who laughs so hard with her friends that she cries. I’m the one who screams at the top of her lungs at a hunter Hayes concert, then stays up till one in the morning with her best friend talking about it. I am the girl who cries alone every night in the dark.   The one who slams doors, and screams. I am the one who punches doors and walls. I am brave. I am strong. I am hard working. I am a daughter. I am a friend. I am a person. I am shy. I am bruised but not broken. I am me. I am irreplaceable. I am one of a kind. I am a writer, an artist,  I am Sa-Vitra Rose. Plain, old me.  Can’t you see? That’s right I am little old me.

This poem is about: 
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 



I am me

From the fake hair

on my head

To the chip crumbs

on my bed

Living in a middle class neighborhood

I moved here 

from the hood

I am different from the rest, but

I've been told it is good.

I go by Briana

some call me Bri

learning really

does make me happy.

I enoy reading


I tend to

make friends

with my personality,

not looks.





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