I hate it.
I am not a fat, lazy
Just because I won't kick a ball around a field
And get sweaty and
Stink of grass.
I am not a fat, lazy
Because I ate a second slice of cake after lunch.
I am not selfish and disobedient
When I want to write a book
Or talk to my friends on Facebook
Of play a game with my brothers
Or talk to my mom about this stupid graduation ceremony
That I told her I didn't want in the first place.
I am not useless
Or worthless
Or selfish or disobedient or thoughtless
Because I spend a few hours watching television
When my school paper isn't finished.
It's not like it's due tomorrow!
I still have two flipping weeks!
And I am not useless
Or worthless
Or selfish or disobedient or thoughtless
Because I still have a unit left in math and one in literature
Because my Constitution and Bible tests still need to be copied
Because my mom is so stressed out about graduation in three weeks
All she ever does is flip out.
I can't do anything right,
Can I?
Not my chores
Or my school
Or my health
I just can't get anything right.
And I'm working this stupid job
That I really, truly HATE
Just because my dad is so freaked out about money
That he won't let me work babysitting and tutoring jobs
That are a little less regular.
The only thing it seems anyone is happy about is a book.
One little book with my name
Slapped across the cover in big purple
Block letters.
One book I wrote three long years ago,
That I poured my heart into last summer,
That I'm done with.
The only thing I've ever done that's of value
Is of the past,
A year old at least now,
And nobody even considers the fact that all the time I spent on the computer
When they called me selfish, lazy, poor time manager,
Not listening,
Wasting time,
Was for that one book.
I wish I'd never written that stupid thing.
I wish I weren't a writer.
I wish I were an athlete,
Who could get scholarships to college
And be skinny no matter
How many slices of apple cake
I eat
After Sunday dinner.
All Dad cares about is money.
All Mom cares about is school and my weight. My stupid weight.
All any of my brothers think I am is a
And I. Hate. It.



Emily, this is powerful stuff! Great coming of age poem

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