Seeds of Progress
The moment my foot enters my house
It no longer matters who I am
I am defined by a letter
My worth is determined
by a cumulative 3 letter acronym
We call GPA
What about all I created?
The seeds that I planted mean nothing
Unless they bloom into flowers
It doesn’t matter if I’m proud as long
As it gives them want they want
But when is enough…
Enough?
Countless hours put into a garden
that might not grow
So much effort
Into a flower that might wilt
So why is it that only the outcome
Determines the quality of my work
Does it really make me who I am?
If all I have to show is a bucket of soil that has yet to grow?
I really like your poem because I also wrote a poem about this topic. It is interesting how you connected the flower to the poem.
ReplyDeleteI love the extended metaphor and imagery that you use in your poem. It fits really well, and I think it really extends and supports your intended message.
ReplyDelete