January 19, 2000

"Growing Up"
By: Jamie Lauren Wyrick (Wednesday, January 19, 2000)

The past echoes muted songs,
as if carried on summer breezes;
dancing under white rays of sunlight,
and whispering through the trees.

A new life formed of hopes and dreams,
they cast a mold of life from love.
A cruel world so big for one so gentle, one so small,
soon to crawl, and then to walk,
born to dream, before to talk.

I have a name, not my own,
I know I'm me,
I taste, I feel, I hear, I see.
At age six, I started school,
happy and eager, I would not be a fool!
Supposed to learn games the kids all play,
I sat instead in a corner all alone.
I asked to join,
I'm shunned away.
I'm teased, I'm taunted,
day after day.
No one knows how sad I feel.
No one notices,
no one cares.

I wrote my name at school one day,
the teacher saw and slapped my hand!
She led me away and said, "Never again!"
And there alone, all through the day,
in a bleak corner in the cloak room I sat.
Not a sound I made as I sat alone,
the children laughed, and she scorned,
the tears from my eyes tasted like
raindrops filled with bitter pain.
They washed over my heartache,
with wounded soul and broken heart,
leaving memories never to be forgot.

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