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Confessions of An Elderly Dweeb

In grade school, I tried to blend in, I really did,
thought kindergarten was o.k., til spat on by
another kid,
first grade, last to be picked to be on a team,
third, fourth, fifth, sixth grade, geez, one big bad dream,
Middle school, at first, I thought it would be swell,
til another girl smacked me upside the head,
great, more hell,
High school? Well, a mix of some fellow teens who
were actually kind, they and I had fun,
but, then, there  were some guys who called
me, "Atila the Hun," because I was strong and
loved to run.

So, I decided in my high school senior year,
I wouldn't shed another tear,
I embraced my, "Dweeb," status proudly to
this day,
After all, us in the Dweeb populace have
looked so much forward to,
some far~ flung former classmates considered too
good looking and cool to ever date you,
grow older, wrinkled, and gray, just like
the rest of us do.

Copyright © Regina Elliott

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