You think you know me? | Teen Ink

You think you know me?

September 6, 2010
By Ghostwriter92 PLATINUM, Salt Lake City, Utah
Ghostwriter92 PLATINUM, Salt Lake City, Utah
45 articles 1 photo 1 comment

Favorite Quote:
"Your life is a gift. Accept it. No matter how screwed up or how painful it seems to be. Somethings are going to work out as if they were destined to happen... As if they were just meant to be"

Today is not my day. As I come into class, you run up to me with high spirits and ask,
“How are you?”
I slowly look up from the lifeless floor and answer sadly,
“I am not doing well.”
You are so caring and concerned for me, you ask me,
I reply,
“I have a problem.”
It is your moment to save me.
“Do you want to talk about?”
My face turns white and rear runs up my spine, which makes me answer quickly,
You step back, almost terrified, but you accept my wishes. As you look at me, you say sweetly,
“I know you. You will make it.”
My face twists and I answer in a harsh tone
“No, you don’t know me!”
As I walk to my seat, I mutter under my breath,
“You don’t even know what or even who the problem’s about.”

The class now begins, “So you think you know me?”
“Today, we learning about the soil profile,” you say with enthusiasm.
“What do I want to do in the future?
“There are five levels to the soil profile,” you say.
“Do you know my passions?”

“The first level is the O Horizon, or in other words, the humus layer.”
“What are my fears?”
“Next we have is the A Horizon, topsoil.”
“Do you know what I’ve been though this past two years?”
As time goes on, we’ve covered the B and C Horizon and I keep asking questions to myself, to prove that you don’t know me. All of a sudden you look at me. You call my name and ask me to explain the last level of the soil profile. I jump from my seat, when I come back to reality, and quickly answer,
“Bedrock, and that’s where all the rock and minerals are.”
You smile sweetly at me, and then the bell rings. Class is now over. You wish us all a good day. You hope that I will feel better. As I walk out of the room, my soul feels empty. My mind finally concludes with this summary,
“You don’t know me. You don’t know what I feel. You think you know me, but you don’t. I guess you could know me, if I actually told you, but I can’t, not yet at least.

The author's comments:
I just felt like a teacher didn't understand what I was going through so I wrote this poem for her.

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