If poets are the legislators of the world, 
What am I doing in a private school where rich kids
Learn the world belongs to them?
I’m supposed to go to Harvard, become a doctor.
Class is for getting high marks;
I fear they’ve made a terrible mistake.
What did Mr. Williams think would happen?
What of expulsion? My parent’s opprobrium? —
Your West Wind has lifted me as a cloud! 
I rebel against them, against myself, against even you.
My thoughts irritate me; the horizon hurts.
I drown in a swell of chlorine and salt.
The bell rings; the deadline nears:
Today calls me to tomorrow and I am nowhere to found.
I’ve salvaged myself, or a part—
What you left to the Wind, storming across the centuries…
 Shelley, Percy Bysshe. “A Defence of Poetry.” Poetry Foundation,
 Shelley, Percy Bysshe. “Ode to the West Wind.” Poetry Foundation,
(This is the first poem I’ve written for my MFA program! The assignment was to “submit a poem addressed directly to a favorite poet or author.” I chose Percy Shelley.)