Poetry is the bane of my existence. Along with dairy and eggs, as I can't consume them without violently throwing up, but that's a conversation for another day. As many of you know, I am a college student now(I know it's sad for me too that High School freedom is over ;( . I had to write a poem in one of my classes, Humanities 101. To preface my poem, I would like to begin with my expeditiously long fear and suffering of the vermin I like to call dogs. ( I can hear the hate train from this statement as I type it.) One day in May 2022, this very year, I was attacked by a dog. To this day, I am not recovered from that traumatic experience. So I decided to dedicate my poem to that. The problem is one, my poem is not that good, but two: my professor is handing back the grade for all our assignments on Friday. So despite my fear of dogs, my fear of failure is cracking down on me; thus, I can only feel better if I profess my poem to all of you and get some responses back. So please send all your thoughts to @thestackrunss@gmail.com. 

My Poem :

 A horrid day in May.

the owner snide shows no remorse

four corners and I am in a box

hell the beast stares back growls

eyes the smell of wet grass pollen

flies dewey expels

pants watches sprints

The door opens and closes

 owner idly by heathen stalks

 prowls and attacks

  beast noticing fear - it does not stop. 

run trip fishes out of water.

Back forth circles upon circles

 street corners close far in between 

thud panic bags drop corners stretch to me

corners stretch to it.

Four corners and I am in a box hell

gasps speed crickets no long BANG 

the devil attacks

pants rigoruous the box breaks

my incoherent breaths the vermin puffs

loom fears depair mother 

tears puddles shame

mimes

it's restless

into the street cars crash

  background yells in frustration

murmurs 

  tears stare back paints the car window

sitting on the bus vermin now in a shelter

I don't look back.