You must’ve been a big man in the schoolyard.
Yes- that is what I think when I watch you with others.
Did you lie in wait for that puny kid who wouldn’t fight back-
who perhaps thought that this was how their life was supposed to be;
who made up stories as to why they came home cut or bruised,
or thought that maybe they really were Ugly, Stupid, Fat?
And I wonder, now, what friends you have,
suspecting that they are of the dime-a-dozen gang,
and how many gatherings you go to and push- push with your loudness.
But you see-
some of us who were moulded in quietness and shame
have kept diaries, physical or spiritual,
speaking at first to some imagined angel who would cry for us,
then draw a sword of flame.
And you see-
some of us have found each other. Yes.
And some of us are Writers.
Something you will never be.
And we have blossomed with a quiet courage,
not of vengeance, but of strength.
So, have a care-
lest you become the one who stands away,
wishing that recess would end.