When I was in Grade 5 (when I was 10),
life wasn’t all that great. My teacher wasn’t very nice.
He spoke with racism, which leaned a bit to vice.
The subtle nature of his words were not quite bold,
but sudden, cutting, like a monstrous speech was told.
And friends I had but three. The rest were wicked mice
that prodded all my innards with their verbal ice.
And hurt was thrown upon me; happiness deprived.
And Mrs. Principal had called me down one day,
insisting that I had offended in some way:
She said I was blasphemous to my friend named John –
he was but one of three – and hating her, I claimed
I was but innocent…but no, I was a pawn,
recruited for sadistic joy; by others tamed.
Wow. Yuck. Too young to learn about that ugliness in the world.
ReplyDeleteOr I should say, "SHOULD be too young." Just hate to see the innocence of a 10-yr-old taken away.
ReplyDeleteAh, alas.
ReplyDeleteThat's why I became screwed up enough to write 365 sonnets! :)