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When Scares Where Only From The Playground - Poetry Group

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5th Grade: days Ascent: 42
6th Grade: Days Ascent: 56
Graduation Day: Ascent
First Day of High School: Accent.
You get the point. But can you blame me when you know getting up in the morning is just suicide?

You know they’re going to laugh. You know what they’re going to say. You can already feel the beatings before your alarm even rings.

You know that at the end of the day when you run home crying and lock yourself in your room you have no one to blame for the pain you feel but yourself. After all, you chose to get up that morning.

You sit in the corner of your bed and think about your day. All the names they called you. How they pushed you to the floor and kicked you when you refuse to get up. How the teacher would let out a small chuckle every time you did a math problem wrong. What were the words she called you? Oh yeah, “Cancer cell”… That’s a new one.

Just the other day I found a box full of old pictures, most of the where of my stepmother and of my father with my brothers and sisters. It was nice to see what a happy, real family looks like other than the ones in movies that they play around Christmas time.

As I get to the bottom of the box I found pictures of my birth Mother’s funeral. God she was beautiful. I was amazed of how much I look like her.

I can’t help but think of how different things would be if she was around, if both parents where around during my childhood. I can’t image what she’d sound like, what she talked like, or what she smelt like. I quickly shook off the millions of questions that where piling up cause I knew that no matter how many stories my Uncle or who ever told it wouldn’t be the same.

Each day I visit her grave and can’t help but wonder if she’d be proud of me. After all I am nothing but a Cross-dressing, gay, Atheist who doesn’t believe in love.

If I could get the chance to change anything about the past I don’t think I’d be able to for instance, I transferred to three schools all for the same reasons.

But I guess if I had to choose I’d prefer to run home crying to the open arms of a mother or father rather than the emptiness.


You wrote a masterpiece of love honesty and true intentions for life. I loved reading it. You are very well thought out, good imagery good details but.... this is not a story without facts, basis . It is , your , story. I think it is touching you write as a well adjusted person you are...of your parents. I don't believe in a 'traditional,' way,..either,..but somehow.....you are 'supernaturally,'...getting a point across. The writing I just read above, left me amazed, and, almost in tears. You really touched us, with this one


This ripped my heart out
I feel for you


Dalton, You really Touched my Heart, The People who Hurt You are just Scumbag's, Inc Your Teacher. WOW, You are an Extremely Talanted Young Writer,Just like Matthew said i am in AWE the way you have put this Together, and Yes,Yes,Yes Your Mother is Very Very Proud of you, so if u ever want a Shoulder, well i am Alway's here For You. I Love You As Who You Are, DALTON xx

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