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Literature Text
Breathing used to hurt---
A volley of nerve-wrecking needles
Shot through my chest
When I woke up in the morning.
Night was never long enough.
A school morning.
Getting on the bus beneath a crisp dawn,
Bundled up in a winter coat
With my orange saxophone case beside me;
Sitting on the moving yellow alley-way.
Pointing…laughing….all eyes on me
Like a dozen spotlights.
A school morning.
Walking into the school, sitting in the cafeteria.
No words escaped my mouth,
I was worried about drawing any attention; then I heard yelling:
"Look at that faggot, he's so gay."
I pretended they were talking about someone else.
A school morning.
Watching people as they whispered to each other;
Pointing at me as I walked down the hall.
I ignored them, and made my way toward class---
Any place was safer than those halls,
Corridors of silent yet persuasive ridicule.
A school morning.
Passing years, painful memories rendered dormant.
Growth, success and confidence had saved me;
Drowning beneath waves of opinions had been forgotten.
There, as I sat at my table surrounded by co-workers he said to my brother;
"Wow, you're related to him? You seem more like a man than he does."
Yet another day I had to endure how I felt on
A school morning.
A volley of nerve-wrecking needles
Shot through my chest
When I woke up in the morning.
Night was never long enough.
A school morning.
Getting on the bus beneath a crisp dawn,
Bundled up in a winter coat
With my orange saxophone case beside me;
Sitting on the moving yellow alley-way.
Pointing…laughing….all eyes on me
Like a dozen spotlights.
A school morning.
Walking into the school, sitting in the cafeteria.
No words escaped my mouth,
I was worried about drawing any attention; then I heard yelling:
"Look at that faggot, he's so gay."
I pretended they were talking about someone else.
A school morning.
Watching people as they whispered to each other;
Pointing at me as I walked down the hall.
I ignored them, and made my way toward class---
Any place was safer than those halls,
Corridors of silent yet persuasive ridicule.
A school morning.
Passing years, painful memories rendered dormant.
Growth, success and confidence had saved me;
Drowning beneath waves of opinions had been forgotten.
There, as I sat at my table surrounded by co-workers he said to my brother;
"Wow, you're related to him? You seem more like a man than he does."
Yet another day I had to endure how I felt on
A school morning.
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I think this says it all.
© 2010 - 2024 Eternal-Mothra
Comments6
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This poem. Just. Wow.
It took me back.
Vivid imagery. Drenched in emotion. This is honestly a fucking masterpiece.
It took me back.
Vivid imagery. Drenched in emotion. This is honestly a fucking masterpiece.