The Prospective

I wrote this poem as a high school senior in response to the overzealous student ambassadors on a college campus.

Silence in the library.

A little girl is thinking.

Break the silence and she may leave

Volumes untouched, untasted.

The best teachers are those who love,

Who invite you in, lead you to the outlet

But don’t stuff in the plug.

The moments I love

Blossom when you treat me as one of your own.

I don’t need your stratagems,

My every preference known

And eagerly paired with a collegiate complement.

I am not merely a prospective.

I breathe in the present!

If your well is so sweet,

I’ll drink the water gladly

Of my own accord.

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