#100peoplepoems part 59: Jamila

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May 11, 2016 by Sez

I met you in the first year. you seemed shy 

And diligent, but in a baffled way.

But sometimes, I would see you cut your eye

At people. And you’d shrug as if to say

“This makes no sense. I’ll do it anyway”

The second year your anger seemed to grow.

You’d talk back to the big girls, state your case.

And sometimes, to a teacher, you’d say “no”.

And somehow, it all blew up in your face.

You’d mutter to yourself “I hate this place”.

The third year, you were sneaky, underhand:

Subservient, obsequious. You’d smile

And be the model student on demand

But what you’d say behind their backs was vile.

Quiet, demure, but oh, so full of bile.

The fourth year, you had grown. Suddenly tall,

And confident. But anyone could see

You were determined never to feel small

You terrorised the girls you used to be.

What you became, it made no sense to me.


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