Rite of Passage

Location

21206
United States
39° 20' 3.4188" N, 76° 31' 53.3352" W

At the age of 1, I couldn't remember much.
I just knew, that when I turned 5 I had to be tough.
I told the teachers,I swear I did
I told them everytime I got hit in the head.

I was told never to cry, so I covered my feelings up with lies.
Teachers, how thoughtless of them to know and to not care, or to care and 
to not interfere.
How can you sit there, and let a child like me be defeated
and pronounced dead by words that cut through me.

Tell me educator,
why did you turn your back on me in class?

And too the lunch lady, who always secluded me
did you know how bad that affects my health?
Do you know im socially disconnected?
Did you know that I will never forget?

Everyone, I will always blame 
because I was never good at concealing the pain.

The words I will never forget, not fighting I will always regret.
The ignorance spilling from their lips, the comments about my weight, 
the homophobic slurs, all thrown at me.

Do you see world,the problems you create!
Math may be the subject, but all were really learning is hate

Bullying a rite of passage so you say?
A not so serious issue, you might think it will be
but what if it was you, and never me?

Children younger than 10, killing themselves
what evidence do you need
life can be hell.

A poem this is not,
this is an image merely put into words.
Stop bullying, the graves are growing like herds.

Comments

ScottBailey

Dear Mentee,

 

This poem is dynamic and "rings true."  Not only is it highly lyrical, it also includes shifts in time, place and setting.

My favorite areas:

1.

At the age of 1, I couldn't remember much.

I just knew, that when I turned 5 I had to be tough.
I told the teachers,I swear I did
I told them everytime I got hit in the head.

2.

Tell me educator,

why did you turn your back on me in class?

3.

And too the lunch lady, who always secluded me

did you know how bad that affects my health?

4.

Bullying a rite of passage so you say?

5.

Stop bullying, the graves are growing like herds.

Bravo, keep writing.  

 

Scott Bailey

P.S.  You may want to read poems by Stephen Dobyns and Roberto Gonzales for inspiration.

 

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