When I was five years old
I loved to read and write
Stories of fairytales and dragons
And dolls come alive at night.
When I was in fifth grade,
I wrote fantasies galore,
And my mother was so proud of me,
She put it on the fridge door.
When I was in seventh grade,
The books were all assigned,
And my mother never read my stories,
Because she didn't have the time.
When I was in grade ten,
My teacher pulled me to the side,
Told me to stop writing fiction,
And handed me an essay guide.
I didn't bring my essays home,
And I never showed my mom,
I stopped writing all together,
Because I didn't find it fun.
Now school's supposed to teach you,
But it only taught me I was wrong,
And I sure would like to write again,
But my imaginations gone.
-E.H.
