October 30, 2022.


I carried around a composition book
full of poorly done drawings and not so bright ideas
Raw feelings with poor choices of words
and I have always loved the imperfections in how I feel

I had an English teacher
Thinning black hair from stressful students I'm sure
He always walked like he was in a rush
and though he smiled wide, he had thin patience for us

He would jeeringly repeat back what we said to him
- in our little accents that we didn't realize we had
Then all period long, we had to listen to his
and we didn't once laugh

I remember the day in class I said, "ain't"
and I felt my whole body tense
because I knew he was going to make me read the dictionary
- just like the other mistaken kids

He would make us look up the word
and tell us it was only used by the less educated
He wanted to iron out every crease but when I got back home,
I listened to my mama and daddy say the words I wasn't supposed to know

For years after his influence, I fought the instinct
to say what came so naturally
in hopes to be taken seriously
because I wanted to sound like I mattered

Now, I beg and plead for my nephew and niece
to keep their roots firmly planted even when -
they think they're just pulling weeds
because a whole dialect is worth saving

Poetry by aidan haskel The PoetBay support member heart!
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Written on 2022-11-05 at 08:01

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Amen to indivualism. Heaven help we should all talk the same, innit?

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I like your modesty that doesn't prevail yourself from writing very good prose or poetry!