Poet didn't doubt defiance, now he droughts deadly

I had to write an inauguration poem for my Poetry class today, which is quite the task; I was extremely intimidated until I remembered I wouldn't be reading my poem to 6.some billion people immediately after a speech by President Barack Obama. After that I just sat down and wrote that shit. It started out not meaning to be anything. I think I'm going to put it in for workshop, but I dunno, because we only get like 4 chances for workshopping our stuff. I have something that I definitely want to put into workshop written mostly in iambic trimeter; I like it but I think it needs a bit more of something. I dunno. I'm bad at gaugeing (...sp?) people's reactions to my shit. Hence why, instead of wanting to hear "I liked how you used this symbol..." when I ask if you liked it, I want to hear "yes." or "no." or "it was terrible. how could you write something THAT BAD?" If you got that hidden joke about md5 sums or w/e, cool, rewarding, but if you didn't like it anyways, I failed, no?

Anyways, I'm not going to post either of those yet, instead I'll give you something I didn't like at first -- I'm still not sure I like it. W/e. It needs work, give me a hand?

This last day awards us some compliance
With our wishes – we have hoped for summer
While deep in winter's grasp.
Family let me be ... prosody has not.
Fuck. I can no longer think without hearing,
In addition to the former beat, the the stupid
Up and down of peasant strove to artist.
Pleib to faults, I find myself stuck, not -
got you there -
Sisyphus, but rather crushed, West Virginian.
I speak not form your voice, from your weary lilt
That seeks to speak from sleep a sounder silence
To fill that former beat full fury. To leave
What's left, from left to right, to reader's gaze –
So frightful. I can feel nothing more frightful.
January has exited.
The world spins faster every year
And I can't even deal with timing laundry,
How can I find my way?
What could February begin to say
To make me bare my pen and ink?