Self

I rarely remember writing any of my poems. This one, however, I remember vividly. I must have been 16, or almost 16. I was in drivers' education class daydreaming as usual. I envisioned myself going through a tunnel, kind of blacked out for a minute, and the next thing I knew this poem was written on an envelope I had on my desk. It stayed there for the longest time because I wasn't sure what it was or what it meant. It's been the one poem everyone seems to like.

Self
going further in
i could see
why the others let their fear
force them to leave
and i, too, was tempted