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I offer you my first poem ever written (that I remember). I wrote it bored to death in my Lit class, so this might give you a good idea of how I view the study of poetry. Want to learn to appreciate poetry: write it yourself. Take you own random thoughts and paste them to a piece of paper. It'll do ya good.

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Seated here in class,
my brain rotting to pieces.
To my right people dwell-
they speak amongst each other, careless.
She shields here eyes from the harmful glare,
the sun's UV can kill --
the other two aren't facing it.
I am envious they feel
the glare of the sun at all.

Of what do they speak
in their tight-knit group?
What drew them together
class, location, what else?
Are they in a group -
working for a common cause?

Gone - they just disappeared.
The roar of a diesel engine fills the dead room.
The professor drones on;
sleep threatens me;
Mondays Fucking Suck.
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I wrote this because I saw a group of people standing outside the window closest to me. I saw them not in the class, and I desperately needed to change positions with them.