Fifth grade, language arts class. No one staring at me for the first Time all day. No mannish boys Tugging at my skirt, no girls Laughing at how older I look. Paper and pen on my desk should, Be doing my essay but to hell with That. Tears trickle down my face, Why hadn’t I stopped him this time? Why did I let him hit mama. Dayum teacher keep glancing at me As if I don’t belong. Words start Overflowin in my head until I can’t take It no more. I bit my lip hard until a trickle Of blood seeped from my lip. I had only heard of poetry once Before. Essay I had to do on Maya Angelou. Didn’t know much About it, but then again I never Knew much about anything. All of a sudden I was writing Pen hitting paper hard, cries Trying to escape from my throat. Not letting them dayum teachers Know what was up, they already Were too deep into my business. Emotions flowin on paper, Oooooohhhhhhhhweeeeeeeeee. It felt so nice, so free. No one was staring at me now Just me and my paper. Never Knew words could be expressed So freely at any given time. My work of art. My ****. No one Could touch me in my world. As soon As I finished I cried. Cried big, Wet, headache tears. Students looked At me but I was in my world. I arose from my desk and walked toward The shelf where they kept the dictionaries. Picked up the Webster and walked straight Out of that room. Sat in the hall, no one ever Bothered me so I didn’t have to worry about Getting in trouble. I looked up “defienetly” and I proceeded to Write my next poem… That was how it went down; all my anger flowed onto those scrap pieces of paper. If felt so good, so right. I have been writing poetry every since. Hoped ya’ll liked it, Bishop thanks for the challenge.