Ink and Quill- Jess's Poem Collection

Fickle Pickle Dreams

If I were a pickle,

I would have fickle,

Impossible dreams

Of being human.

I would imagine

Having two feet,

Instead of none,

And being my own species,

Instead of a variant of one.

I wouldn't be green and warty,

I'd have soft smooth skin;

I'd forget that

Humans have warts too.

Then I'd wake up and realize

That I couldn't be a human,

So maybe I should set my dreams

On becoming a cucumber.

Of course, 

That would only happen if I was a pickle,

And pickles could dream.

One of the first poems I ever wrote.

Wow. Such cringe. Much pickle. Very pathetic.