Poem By sylvia spencer

I am sorry for all the trouble I have caused,
then Mum says' go back to school!
.'Oh! but Mum, do I have to,
everyone can be so cruel! So back to school
I went with a daily feeling of resentment.
I sat in the history class,
I thought I was doing fine,
then when it came to the marking
there was a mistake in every line.
All the answers, were correct,
but was there any reason why,
that I should get such low marks,
and there was no second try.
Heart broken, resentful oh how I worked
so hard, yet no matter how I pushed myself
there were always red marks on my card
My report card made me sick, so I started to rebel.
every time I went to school,
it was like visiting, a place called hell.
Bad marks for this,
bad marks for that,
No wonder I was always on,
The Head's, carpet mat.
My Maths were top dollar
because I didn't have to spell
but I lost marks for that
because I was beaten by the bell.
I could not spell arithmetic,
I found the word very hard,
so I was set to write it, a thousand times,
out in the, cold school yard.
I was always on my own,
at play time and lunch
because the other kids pulled faces,
and called me a silly dunce.
It was time for decision
so I broke a school rule,
got myself expelled
and became a bigger fool.
I went though life,
not knowing how to spell,
but now I think
what the hell,
The years have flown,
and time has gone fast
those tormented days
lay hidden in the past.
Life has seen me,
become a great writer,
and has given me the fullfillment,
of a life that is brighter.

Comments about Tormented

from one dyslexic to another...a pat on the back for both of us...we sure have come a long way...please read 'the struggle that made me'...thats my story...i hope my message reaches millions of dyslexics the world over...'nothing is impossible...its all in the just have to teach yourself differently because you are wired differently'...lets blow each others computers a flying has given us so much confidance...a helping friend...always and hugs...nalini
Sylvia, I relate to this completely - been there, done that. A great write, thanks...
I understand this oh so well, but lets just look at the facts here.Since working in a school I have noticed that some of the brightest and most creative people find spelling a chore, Why! 'Oh they just are' has never been an answer to me.I have become more and more aware that there are those that challenge the logic of any language.Maybe subconciously, but challenge it all the same.There are certain rules that we can follow that may be of some help but beyond this the only way that we can remember the wording is by memory along. Like trying to see the word as a picture.If a word does not make sense and our brain is set to callenge it then we will fall on many obsticales along the way.Some people will not question the way in which a word is written and will just remember it's formation of letters.But some will question things like silent letters and many words that we have adapted from different languages.Is good spelling the right spelling or one that we have taught our brains to follow so as not to be left behind?
You really describe the agony of school life for a dislexic well here. I can't imagine the sorrow you must have gone through. I am a dreadfull speller myself. How wonderful that you overcame all that and turned into a fantastic writer. It's kind of like, sticking your two fingers up at them and good for you! Love Gyp's
Beautiful Sylvia! ! This is such an inspiring poem for anyone struggling with school...and yes, many young people do read poetry here. So nice to see you back. I look forward to more from you. Sincerely, Mary

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Other poems of SPENCER

A Bunch Of Roses

I love life but does life love me when I have to cook
tea for a family of three.
One wants this and one wants that and between
those wants I have to feed the cat.

A Basket Of Goodies

Why do the the people call you Crabby
is it because your clothes are shabby.
Why have the people called you this awful name
I think their at fault and you are not to blame.

A Lonely Heart In A Thunderstorm

A lonely heart sets the table but is she a Milly,
a Betty or a Mabel. Tea, coffee, cakes and ale
but outside there blows a gale. Sash cord windows
rattling like chains, thunder and lighting tormenting her

A Wayward Life

Born out of wedlock,
with a chip on his shoulder,
one that was as big,
as a cliff face, boulder.

A Water Lord

See him hover, over river and pond
just like a fairy waving a wand. He looks
quite stunning this graceful thing, flying
around on brightly coloured wing.

A Cry For Help

Dont keep me hidden,
in this dark room,
please show me the sun,
so that I can bloom.