Poetry
In the 5th grade I won a prize, not only was my poem accepted by the teacher as the best in class but who then set it to a typewriter which was then plastered it on a wall so that everyone could see and read and admire.
God, how proud I was!
Of course all the other boys taunted me that I was a sissy and called me many names everywhere I went. But after a while I no longer cared. I was a poet whose poem hung on a wall in school.
Screw them! I thought…but I never had another poem to hang on a wall again…at least I didn’t show anyone….
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