Sometimes you stand and take it.
Sometimes you run.
They can't hit you if you keep moving.
Just maybe there's a happy-ever-after
in the week or year ahead.
More likely, someone will tease you
for wearing a sweater with holes.
I practiced being invisible
sitting in the back row, hiding
but they still saw me.
I was lucky I was tall.
Now folks say I have an unforgiving nature,
the old two strikes, blah, blah.
I'm getting out.
Just call me feisty
|Dressed up and determined.|
Why not go see what others have written HERE? We up to nearly 80 poetry writers! Surely someone had a happier vision?