She said a cuss word right out loud,

A bad one (you can smell).

I didn't like the boy she cussed,

Had thought the same myself.


But she was loud and all had heard

Her break the handbook rule.

I hated to, but wrote her up,

To keep the tempers cool.


I try to keep abreast of things,

And lean toward what is right,

But sometimes what I WANT and do,

Don't meet each other quite.


She said a cuss word right out loud.

It wasn't all that bad.

But had I not then handled it,

We'd both be very sad.


Her peers would tell the matter,

And I'd be called to state,

Just why I hadn't done more.

And that's the part I hate.


Because he'd pushed her to it,

And I'd have done the same,

Were I an eighth grade student,

With hormones still untamed.


Music: Everybody Hurts Sometime

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Rachel  Marie Tate's picture

Oh Oh Oh!!! I LOVE this one! First of all, I thoroughly enjoyed being catapulted back into jr. high, and remembering a similar instance where I got in a little trouble over that, and secondly, I took great pleasure in knowing that you agreed(in a way) with what the girl had done, that the boy was deserving such a name... Your poetry continually evokes great mental pictures, and when accompanied by the art on the page along with it, well.. all I can say is that I've been up all night and cannot bear to leave.... :-)