Death of a Poet

An assignment was given to all students
to write a poem of theor choice.
We were assured that rejection wouldn't happen,
and ideas soon began to pounce out, each and all wanting it to be chosen.
Us as first time writers, I'll definitely give it my all. Our homework all submitted, I was satisfied, I felt I've done well, I loved it so.
All poems were praised, all but one-
I was to edit the lines, no rhyme and my hard thought of lines all crushed. I was forlorn, but yet I was determined to try,
I did what I was told. Though others were chosen
for publish in the yearbook, I consoled,
I'll get it on my second try.
And as the chosen names revealed, my heart sank, though my ear yearned to hear for my name once again.

An assignment was given-a poem again when I was a year older. Again they would be published-but
on the internet this time. I rushed home
thinking, what I should I write this year? What about conflict? And so I did.
But yet it wasn't posted, though I checked for it the whole day. "Great poetry could not be rushed", came the comment and so it wasn't published. A bucket of ice was just emptied over my head, I stared blankly to the screen-since when had I rushed?
I added somemore to my heavy heart-my friends all got theirs posted on their first try. I realised poetry wasn't my type, and decided to put it to rest. I told a friend, but then it was leaked- through a poem which she wrote-to my teacher, and I was cornered. "I wanted to protect you from the bad comments".
Two opposite lines drove my to tears, yet they were never seen nor they were heard.
My sorrow increased with growing acheness, a sneer from a friend, "Why don't you just post it on your own website?" But that wasn't the point.
Nobody knew, my wrath grew and my sorrow weighed like tons, I have to stop this at once.
Bury my talents into my heart's grave, freeze them like no winter to spring, I cried bitterly as I did, fatigue from all the trying, as I sunk them all without a goodbye.