“Poetry is an orphan of silence. The words never quite equal the experience behind them.”

I wrote this poem a couple of months ago. I don't really write poetry ever so don't judge me too harshly.




Brought to you by the number 5.

Fifth in line. The last
The mistake, mistaken
for those who came before.
Can I be judged on my actions alone?

One, two, three, four
They were the lesson,
I was the result.

You grow, learn, watch
One, two, three, four
Hate, love, like…
Ambivalence is a part of life.

I am my own person, though I am a product
The assembly line child
Number Five.
One, two, three, four
Made mistakes and I learned
Imitation is the highest form of stupidity.

I make my own mistakes
Can I be judged on those alone, or must I always pay for
One, two, three, four.