You think you’re one of the beautiful people.
Dare to imagine you can be one of us!!
No didn’t, never once
hadn’t contemplated that until you said
and still the answer was no
Not like them. I read books, so it made me odd, stood out
imagination marked me different, the reject in the factory
they commonly called school.
Made to stand in the bin, where rubbish belongs
voice of a cackling medusa like creature
who was purported to be an oracle, of knowledge
how could any child learn kindness
from a teacher who showed only childish cruelty?
Like pulling the legs from an insect to see
how long till it dies
You’d watch your victims, waiting
I could have made you stop I know
but damned if you’d ever see me cry, no matter
what you did, mind or body
words, jeers, slaps, pinches, no tears.
Granted, I could have made it so very easy, if only I’d cried
so you could be a heroine, the one of pity
taking pity on your object of malice.
Stubbornly refusing to play the game
not a pawn on your personal chessboard
I couldn’t see some of their fears
simply that you hated me,
and your example said they should too.
Escaping your clutches every day, and knowing tomorrow was always
too close by
still hoping if I read enough
I might escape into one of those magical worlds
where happy was ever after, evil witches were dissolved by water (I wish!!!),
and cold, hard hatred wasn’t tangible
daily tasting of brackish water
churning my insides with it’s spoiled solution
or maybe just the tears I swallowed,
so you never got your only wish, not from me
a single tear to see, polite smiles that was all
barked orders observed, followed
The intent growing to see just one single tear
slide down my cheek,
Never did happen.