I wrote a poem last night.

I thought it was pretty tight.

Took it to my teacher.

She said, "It just didn't look so right."

Admittedly it didn't

Rhyme so good.

But I'm not so sure

Who said it should.

And I suppose it's also true.

My spelling could've been better.

Seems here and there

I left out a letter.

Then there's the part about the grammar.

The correct way to use a word.

I've just never been so good at knowing,

The difference between an adjective and a verb.

When to capitalize is important, too, I guess

Whether it's upper or lower case.

She said not knowing

Was kind of a disgrace.

She added that style is important

And so is punctuation.

The right symbol and symbolism

for every situation.

Finally, she said the truth

she must confess.

The poem I wrote last night -

Was really quite a mess.

I thanked her for her insight

And after class ...

I wadded up my poem -

And threw it in the trash.

Well as you can see

This poem isn't at an end.

There's a verse or two left to my story.

There's someone's honor - I wish to defend.

On the day that followed

When I opened up my desk with typical dread.

There was my poem on prest paper

With a note from the janitor that said: 

"Mister Kilmer, This musta been tossed away in error.

I put it in your desk for you to decide.

I liked your poem when I read it.

Made me feel warm and good inside.

Especially the part about the tree.

It's as lovely as can be."

                                              - Dan Turner 10/19/05

                                  Elko, Nevada