All Nonfiction
- Bullying
- Books
- Academic
- Author Interviews
- Celebrity interviews
- College Articles
- College Essays
- Educator of the Year
- Heroes
- Interviews
- Memoir
- Personal Experience
- Sports
- Travel & Culture
All Opinions
- Bullying
- Current Events / Politics
- Discrimination
- Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking
- Entertainment / Celebrities
- Environment
- Love / Relationships
- Movies / Music / TV
- Pop Culture / Trends
- School / College
- Social Issues / Civics
- Spirituality / Religion
- Sports / Hobbies
All Hot Topics
- Bullying
- Community Service
- Environment
- Health
- Letters to the Editor
- Pride & Prejudice
- What Matters
- Back
Summer Guide
- Program Links
- Program Reviews
- Back
College Guide
- College Links
- College Reviews
- College Essays
- College Articles
- Back
Red Poem MAG
My red-hot passion for poetry has just begun,
It burns as fiercely as the fiery sun.
It burns so bright retina damage can't be undone.
It burns like the blood-soaked barrel of a freshly shot gun.
Lines flowing through my head
What rhymes with the color red?
Words like bed, fed, said, dead,
Or even my great-uncle Ned!
But none of those relate to the color red,
So I toss them out of my cluttered head.
Now there's more room in my pinkish brain,
So from mastering this poem, I won't refrain.
With my pencil in hand, I begin my quest
To make my red poem the absolute best.
I make sure my pencil is full of lead
So I can write all day about the color red.
I scribble my poem with such a burning desire
That my paper erupts into a red glowing fire.
I reach for a towel to extinguish the flame
And continue my work that will amount to fame.
I switch to writing with pen to avoid more friction
So I won't interrupt my powerful diction.
But I write so hard that my pen suddenly shatters
And dark cherry ink splashes and splatters.
I finish my poem and rush off to school,
Blushing red with excitement, my mouth drips of drool.
I stand here in class, anxiously waiting,
As Mrs. Kinney starts to do her grading.
“This poem is a mess and it's covered in ink!”
“But it's beautifully written, don't you think?”
“Maybe I'd agree, if I could read it”
“Please give me an A, I really need it!”
Red as a tomato is the color of my face
When Mrs. Kinney says “This poem is a disgrace!'
I suddenly feel like my red beating heart
Has been brutally pierced by a sharp, metal dart.
Similar Articles
JOIN THE DISCUSSION
This article has 0 comments.