Honestly, even though I had read parts of it, the poem was actually very good. THough, it should not be written as a story-like complex, but the story -- overall in my opinion was good for me. Here is the number one quote that you did!

It was one of those days,

When I decided it would all be alright.

 

By one of those days, I mean any old day. Not “one of those days” that precedes a new beginning, or leads to an old end. Not really “one of those days” that means anything at all. I just mean it was “one of those days” that we always live. Nothing spectacular happens; nothing transcendent pulls you upward, or shoves you down. You’re just stumbling happily, stupidly, along lamenting your woes and downplaying your triumphs when suddenly you stop.

 

This part right here sparked my attention right too it. I crave more od what you have written and think of this piece as something of great interest to my mind. In my opinion, I think that you will go all the way with this poem! I wish so much, I mean so, so much to hear of more of your poems, Ezra Fortune!

Hi Ezra,

For the purposes of this piece, I'm treating it as if you, the author, and you, the narrator, are two separate people.  So this is a critique of it from a more literary/dramatic/fiction perspective.  I hope that's OK.

The beginning of the narrative seemed to drag on for a while.  I don't know if the first three paragraphs really fit with the rest of the work.  It might work better if you cut it to:

It was one of those days, When I decided it would all be alright. By one of those days, I mean any old day. You’re just stumbling happily, stupidly, along lamenting your woes and downplaying your triumphs when suddenly you stop. You sit there and now instead of stupidly shuffling your shoes, you’re tenuously trying a new thought out in that old think-tank of yours. By “you” I, of course, mean me. This story is all about me and all about how I decided I wouldn’t let myself be down and out again.

The phrase "down and out" sounds vague to me.  Does this mean poor?  Unlucky?  Weak?

I wondered why I let myself be defeated by my own fears. Why I let knaves and scoundrels disarm my confidence and ravage my wellbeing. I wondered why I hated where I was, the people I was around and the things I was doing. The answer was…I didn’t know. I didn’t know why Fairbanks bugged me so bad, why interactions with my peers more often warranted an eye-roll than a smile and why I didn’t find joy in life anymore. I still don’t know why exactly; other than to say because I let it. But I do know that I’m past it now.

What led to the wondering?  I know the narrator says he doesn't know, but I don't feel any emotional investment here.  It's a little anticlimactic to read the end of this paragraph, too.  If he's past it now, how did that happen?  What changed?  Dramatically, it falls flat for me.

I am sick of flight, because in the end I just can’t run away from my own head. However, I am sick of fight as well because I can’t wage a war on my own mind. Waging war on thoughts I was afraid to think. Maybe I wasn’t invincible, ingenious or enigmatic. Maybe I was just a weak dumb billboard that screamed shallow temporal hack in neon lights and peeling wallpaper. I think we all keep our personal fears close. That one is mine.

Using the present tense here makes me think that the narrator really isn't past whatever's bugging him.  While I like the metaphor of the billboard, I don't quite understand what his personal fear is.  Is he afraid that he's a failure and that his failure is obvious to everyone?

Is it a test of strength or a measure of stupidity when we force ourselves to live lives contradictory to our morals, ethics and even dreams?

I love this question!  It's direct and confrontational, unlike the first part of the piece.  I'd love to see this part come sooner in the narrative.  However, I'm not sure what it has to do with the first part.

It all boils down to the fact that I decided not to let piss-ant professors, belligerent bosses or sassy sasquatches knock me down anymore. I won’t be the spring board to their pathetic well being and I won’t let my own mind convince me otherwise. I am more than I have lived to be, dreamed to be and failed to be. So get up and keep moving. If I can figure this out at twenty-one, then there is hope that I can hold on to this into the future. That I can expand it, modify it and purify it with age and experience. Distill it until the taste puts fire in my heart and tears in my eyes. There is hope that I can achieve my dreams while being the person I’ve always aspired to be.

I loved this paragraph.  I feel like this is the "meat" of the work, and the image of him distilling the thought is great.  This does feel like the "climax" of the piece.

I would love to know why the narrator came up with this thought.  Was it as he was staring at a bad grade on a test?  As he was watching a friend go to jail?  As he was debating whether or not to engage in a physical fight (either in self-defense or because he's picking a fight)?  This is a pretty big thought to come out of nowhere.  Maybe it's just from something that someone else said.  Maybe at the start of the narrative, he really doesn't know where the thought came from, but then a specific situation comes to mind after that.

I know this is a personal narrative, and maybe you'd rather stick to what really happened to you.  But as a reader, I would love to know what made this thought happen.  I feel like something specific caused it.  Or maybe a bunch of little things, but I really feel like there should be certain instances mentioned, and not just a list of people that the narrator doesn't want to bother him anymore.

I like the casual tone here.  It fits the narrator well, and just how I'd imagine a 21-year-old student would get fed up with the stuff happening in his life.  This is a great start!  As always, I'd like to read any changes you make to this!

Bravo!!  I loved the fluidity, the pure stream of consciousness feel to the entire piece.  It is well written, lucid, coherent, and makes some thoughtful and driving comments.   However, it reads as a story, not as a poem - it feels wrong to classify it as such.

You might want to tell us a bit about what led to this rumination.  Give us a feel for the complexities of your life, the things you perceived as struggles, etc.

In the line below,

 I was doing. The answer was…I didn’t know. I didn’t know why Fairbanks bugged me so bad,

I think it would read better if it read "badly", although I am not a grammar hound regarding adverbs.

I agree that the first section

By one of those days, I mean any old day. Not “one of those days” that precedes a new beginning, or leads to an old end. Not really “one of those days” that means anything at all. I just mean it was “one of those days” that we always live. Nothing spectacular happens; nothing transcendent pulls you upward, or shoves you down. You’re just stumbling happily, stupidly, along lamenting your woes and downplaying your triumphs when suddenly you stop.

could use a little tightening up.  I really like the next line

You sit there and now instead of stupidly shuffling your shoes, you’re tenuously trying a new thought out in that old think-tank of yours.

It is a great segue into the balance of the piece. 

I believe that growth is, by its very function, a "war on the mind" so I challenge the next thought.

However, I am sick of fight as well because I can’t wage a war on my own mind. Waging war on thoughts I was afraid to think.

A person has to struggle above the thought patterns which held him prisoner.  We may hate to do it but do it we must if we are to continue to breathe.  In the section below

It’s easy to think that there is a time in one’s life when one must know conflict, loneliness, heartache and strife. While I still believe that there are these moments in life, I also believe that it is our inability to deal with them that stretches these moments into months and, sometimes, lifetimes.

it feels like you are seeing yourself as rising above the multitude of others in that you chose to get out early.  What you may not realize, at the shy, young age of 21, is that the world deals up an unending ration of crap to some people and they are simply lacking in the skills to lift themselves above the frustrations and fears and frozen numbness of stasis.  Or that , with some people, it takes a very long time to learn those skills or believe in themselves enough to move forward.  Or that others start off with more skills to begin with.  Someone at 21 simply doesn't have that understanding yet.  He has too many life experiences facing him still.  BUT - it is an enviable feeling you have there.  Hang on to it with both fists.  Treasure it.  And be grateful.