I Am Poetry

I am poetry. 

My back is the spine. 

My arms turn into the cover. 

My fingers smooth into pages. 

The prints printed on my thumbs bleed words. 


I am a poem,

Every single part of me.

I am all the thoughts the human race has ever had. 

I am the mother, I am the dad. 


When you want a piece of poetry to feed your mind—

I'll peel the layers off my thumb, ‘til they form sentences,

I'll bend my fingers back, back until they turn into stanzas,

I'll snap my arms crooked, ‘til they cry out titles, 

I'll arch my back, and screech as they brand me with the name of my owner. 


I am a haiku.

The original OG.

You can't handle me.


I am a sonnet, 

Betrothed to Shakespeare.

Like a kid learning his alphabet, and he gets stuck on G:


My couplets are more star-crossed than Romeo and Juliet could ever be. 


I am T.S Eliot here to sing you love songs— 

Don’t you cast me to The Waste Land.


I am Maya Angelou ‘bout to free the bird from its cage— 

And still I rise.


I am Emily Dickinson finally stopping for death—

You can’t kill me. 


I am living, breathing poetry. 

My veins bleed poetry—fear this blood.

My eyes cry poetry—see these words.

My shampoo brand is poetry—feel these curls.




And take up the pen.

Poetry is our oxygen.

Let us all breathe it in.


Our words will save this nation.

From a simple sentence to a conversation.


We are poetry.

We will save the world.


You are poetry.

You can change the world.


I am poetry.

Use me to save this world!


And when I finally die, 

I'll be reincarnated into a tree. 

I'll be turned into pages for the next poets to use. 

And when they do—


I'll be free. 


This poem is about: 
Our world
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 


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