Self-Help

Graduate of the School of Hard Knocks

The torture begins promptly at 9 am
every day, the name calling that
seemingly goes with getting glasses
or wearing unfashionable clothes
or not knowing anyone at this school.
The teacher tries not to interfere,
presuming that the children
will work it all out on their own
somehow.

Home is no better,
step-father number three
(or four)
(or five)
is not pleased having so many
children (not his) around.
We must look insolent or
rebellious to his eyes
somehow.

Time goes slowly for a lonely child
and middle-school
high school blend together
in a blur of education
interrupted by angry people,
always implying that the
rage is well-deserved
somehow.

Working at whatever place
will hire a kid with
low self-esteem,
again, the target seems
inevitably painted on the back
of the cheap polyester fast-food uniform.
Trying to please, always trying,
not always succeeding, maybe someday
things will be better
somehow.

Written for Robert Lee Brewer’s Poetic Asides November Poem-a-Day Challenge – prompt: Self Help.

Advertisements

2 thoughts on “Self-Help

  1. Wow, this was nakedly honest and brutal. Also, you captured a lot of my growing up, but it wasn’t the same – maybe that’s what makes this universal. Don’t understand what I mean? Well maybe this hug will explain it…:) thanks, mosk

    • The actual facts might not be the same but the details mean little when it comes to rough beginnings. One wounded soul easily recognizes another, after all. ((Hugs right back atcha))

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s