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  This poem was written about my first day at a public school. I transfered to a public school in the middle of my freshmen year after attending Christian schools all my life. Needless to say, it was a major culture shock. I was really scared at the new school I transfered to because I was so shy and had extremely low self-esteem, and yes, I did go home and cry. But the first day was the worst - after all, when you reach rock-bottom, there is nowhere to go but up - and it did get better although I still don't feel like I really "fit in."

UPDATE! I graduated from high school June of 2002, almost a year ago now, and I view those four years of high school as some of the worst of my life, with the two years of junior high being a close second. Four years, or six, of you include junior high, of being left out of conversations, ignored unless someone needed help with their homework, and ridiculed for being moral. If it hadn't been for Marcus, I don't know what I would have done. He has been my lighthouse, steering me away from the rocks. But for everyone still in high school who is reading this, I know what you feel like. I've been there. And you know how all the adults say, "You have it so easy! These are the best years of your life!" ? Well, they are wrong. Maybe for the priveleged few, the popular 5% who have the right clothes and the right car and all the right looks, etc., maybe high school is great for them. Unfortunately, for the other 95% of us, high school is as close to hell on earth as you can get. Anyway, read the poem, and you'll see that someone does relate, someone does know what you are going through.

The First Day

The normally long ride is over in a few seconds, much too soon,
And I stop, afraid, before entering.
But I am swept up in the endless stream
Of the cold, unfriendly bodies walking by.
Fearfully, I clutch my creased map and schedule
And frantically, hopelessly, search the sea of nameless faces
For one, just one, that is familiar.
Countless obscenities bounce off the walls
Piercing my skin and bruising my sheltered ears.
One thousand pairs of eyes stare unkindly
As I stumble to my seat
And one thousand voices echo heartlessly,
“Who are you? Where did you come from? Why are you here?”
As one thousand self-secure minds mentally size me up,
Put me in a labeled box and toss the box on a dusty shelf,
Never to be bothered with again.
Eternities crawl by painfully
And I am finally released to go home,
Where I cry a million tears.

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