in elementary school
I was never much,
a small kid, scrappy,
but if you tried to take me on,
I’d usually whoop you good.
what I was missing in muscles
I had in smarts, in quickness,
and I didn’t care about winning,
but only to be left the hell alone.
in high school
I wasn’t really that tough,
but if I felt something wrong,
like when Rinaldo the bully
kept on mistreating us,
I’d reach a point where I knew
that enough was enough.
others stood by doing nothing,
kids and adults alike,
I chose words over fists,
wrote a letter to the captain.
it takes guts to stand up
to injustice and mistreatment
when you know the results
could leave you bloody
and broken, and locked
in the basement for days.
but when deep in your bowels
you know that it’s right,
you feel the instinct to act,
you do whatever it takes
to stand up.
even if he knocks you down
26 times,
you stand up.
