His name is Beau. He's a planet, too.
For the sequel to "Discount Shakespeare", it's time to hero the dreams of the child hearts in everyone. Get ready for an adventure of a fourth of a lifetime that's meant to end right before puberty strikes.
This...
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Beau's Regards A relic to remember Poetry by seomins
━━━ ❃ ━━━
Gratitude
To my first conversation with silence, who orchestrated play dates with time and space in our mutual desperation for true friendship. To Mother, who decorated the walls of our home with delusion-driven apocrypha that preached the Good News of me being "special". To Father and his disconcerting belief that balls chucked at my face would get me to speak. To my skittish preschool playmate who squandered every red crayon in sight to draw me with my lips glued together. To my harried teachers who deemed me an impermeable mute and thought my creations "spoke to them" in stark contrast. To my classmates' utter disbelief and pesky urge to erupt with laughter when I ached of incessant wails for attachment. To my third grade "barkada" who, not even a week after we met, shunned me for putting curlicues on my cursive. To the bellows of my crass librarian—laced through her contentious spiels of our indolence—whose signatures mocked me and one top-notcher too many. To the tan-skinned lummox of seventh grade who drenched my armchair with ridicule more resounding than a United Nations declaration. To the throne's ardent heir, the darling of the crowd, whose helping hands have pressed me down to a lowly follower waiting eternally for her own high horse,
Thank you. For this will be the first song I sing.
