Red Pen

This is written by a 13 year old in my class. I am the teacher, she is the writer When I was younger, I'd read too much. Too many pages of too many plots, Too many characters and too many thoughts. Too many books, poems, articles, and such. Too many things for my interest to get caught. I'd write too, always something new I'd work like a bee but could never agree On how to start the sentence Or what the name of the character would be Or whether it was raining there or had already rained If the main character was sad and the man mad Or everyone lived happily I sit there, writing it all with a pencil the words may have had potential but it would take me ten tries to turn it in and once the teacher would read it, she would want me to share I'd only stand there turning my hair, and hoping Hoping for the paper to tear But when I'd finalize in all in red pen my words would be a bear in authority with all its mass and all the things I'd never be able to say in class