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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required Recess 1 Third grade Ms. Greene Handed me tightly wrapped Chinese candy And Starburst occasionally A little girl Fresh out of Haiti Bullied Teased, punched and kicked Scared and scarred Yet well mannered Blue she wore “going on a date? Ms. Greene giggles and smiled In my mind I wasn’t pretty Still, To her , I was her sweet, quiet, little lady In Ms. Greene’s class I kneaded and molded Playdough in between my hands And was pleasantly amused Just as in the second grade Charles ,said “Yo momma so fat When she sit on the rainbow She popped Skittles” I laughed so loud I got in trouble He was sitting behind me At the back of the class Boys and girls in our class All got their hits in Charles didn’t They dared me to stand up for myself But I couldn’t fight back for nothing That pain was mine to bear But shared by people across the world I hid it well As it didn’t smell Or reflect on the surface Seasoned was I at nine In second grade Things appeared good and well But she wanted to Hide from the little monsters That gave her hell Many a school day I was their punching bag Deflated And reduced to a ball Tossed, kicked, hit I can’t feel it now No traces remain Just in my mind They were young and still innocent Their hands and feet were their only weapon Monica, my Spanish friend, Karina’s cousin , Likened me to a boy Inches away outside at recess one day As if she were an angel delivering a message On a trip to the circus Karina , who sat next to me On the cheese bus Gave me a dollar In exchange for my fifty cent blue juice That I’d already sipped from I had chocolate cupcakes with white filling I was becoming a little woman upstairs My sweater buttoned up to my face Aren’t you hot? Asked Delphine , A snobby Haitian girl , hair done, new clothes worn Dayvonique , a pretty little black girl Who had everything said “Pay them no mine” Our supermarket trip granted us lemonade Boiled down cafeteria apples made into a sauce My teacher, Ms.Goodwin stirred the pot And sweetened our Macintosh I would watch her step out of the class To converse with a male janitor All giggles and smiles Always made up Pretty Dressed nice But she never saw me And all the kids Who wanted me to disappear Marckincia Jean Narrative 08/15/19
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