i am poem

I am cheese

I wonder what its like to get out

I hear nothing but the electricity

I see the white door


I am cheese

I pretend that i was not a mere piece of cheese

I feel the plastic around me

I touch my cheese brothers

I worry that i will mold

I cry for the fear i dont taste good enough


I am cheese

I understand i was made for the pleasure of taste buds

I say please use me to eat

I dream that i was not eaten

I try to stay good

I hope that i will not mold

I am cheese



my teacher wont give me extra credit
we were supposed to say this as native americans