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Graduating Class of 2015

High school games to destroy a self.
Did you lose and
did they win?
Did those words do more
than a wayward glance,
a misplaced laugh,
the harmless, innocent jests?
Doubt the hurt from view of the aftermath
don’t you know
it’s ok to say it was not.

High-school games to burn stills in the image’s
one holds of the nature of people.
Burn in black streaks across the photo paper
of a disappointed and fearful distaste.
It bleeds into the silhouette’s
hiding behind the change room doors
till they’re no good to their likeness anymore.

And years later I still find myself struggling to explain this
feelings chaotic, elocution misplaced.
Lips reach for words but come up empty
leaving me wound up in reflections
of a figure debased.

But I am not afraid.

I will live under the gaze of genuine appreciation
as I peel back the last
of this facade of a face
not to laughter, nor bigotry
but to love.

Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
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Comments

A lot of emotion. A lot of hurt, it seems. But more than that: love, understanding. Thanks for sharing part of your story. I have very vivid memories of my last year of high school. I should try and put it in a poem sometime.

I went to an all boys school that was entrenched drenched in the cruelty of homophobia, racism and corporal punishment. In 2nd year (year 8) I held the dubious honour of most cuts of the cane received. I refused to buckle. Ever see the movie "Cool Hand Luke"?

It's odd that you say
"And years later I still find myself struggling to explain this
feelings chaotic, elocution misplaced.
Lips reach for words but come up empty"
when the rest of the poem belies that in its passionate elegance.

My reading, hoping to do it justice but mostly so you can spot some scansion difficulties-
https://soundcloud.com/neopoet/graduating-class-of-2015-by-riotface97
May I post it to our Neopoet Facebook page? I can change the image if you like.

cheers,
Jess
A new workshop on the most important element of poetry-
'Rhythm and Meter in Poetry'
https://www.neopoet.com/workshop/rhythm-and-meter-poetry

I went to an all boys school that was entrenched drenched in the cruelty of homophobia, racism and corporal punishment. In 2nd year (year 8) I held the dubious honour of most cuts of the cane received. I refused to buckle. Ever see the movie "Cool Hand Luke"?

It's odd that you say
"And years later I still find myself struggling to explain this
feelings chaotic, elocution misplaced.
Lips reach for words but come up empty"
when the rest of the poem belies that in its passionate elegance.

My reading, hoping to do it justice but mostly so you can spot some scansion difficulties-
https://soundcloud.com/neopoet/graduating-class-of-2015-by-riotface97
May I post it to our Neopoet Facebook page? I can change the image if you like.

cheers,
Jess
A new workshop on the most important element of poetry-
'Rhythm and Meter in Poetry'
https://www.neopoet.com/workshop/rhythm-and-meter-poetry

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