Caren Krutsinger Poet Narrative

No One Can Get Anyone Angry Faster Than Me

Never fully hidden in the shadows of my mind
Are things I do not speak of for they are no longer important
But they used to be things I dwelled on,
situations and people who hurt me.

Slights so tiny, others might not have noticed.
But I was super aware of teachers who were speaking
of me in a mean way. And there were several for
I was never easy with them or on them.  
Catching their mistakes.
Making them super angry.

No one can get anyone angry faster than me.
For I do not like injustice or rudeness and I will
call anyone on it. Always have, always will.
And adults are not always fair because they
do not realize they have time for fairness.

Retaliation is hell, and adults are vindictive.
My childlike pains brilliantly fling themselves
into paintings, cartoons and poetry
for I remember meanness and unkindness.
I remember pinched and angry faces.
I remember being taken advantage of because
I was a mere child. How dare I! How dare them!

I do not dwell on it, but I am 
easily hurt. Especially young little, child me.
Because I did not hurt others, and
did not expect to be taken advantage of for my 
for my naivety and my insane
crazy need for fairness but I was.

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