Quiet Storm

My brain is silent when I

need it to produce poetic lines

to fulfill my final year of

high school english class.

Poetry pictured in my head

shows no promising phrases

to create a metaphor of nothingness

to show the profound thoughts

put together for a purpose of not writing prose.

Thinking of quiet is not what I am.

Tortured to find something in my

brain to sustain the peace of

producing something that

isn’t there.

My brain is blank as a blackboard

without words to share what do I

care? Only silence is there with

very few words to share—this

is my despair.