With Mum on your Side
It used to be I'd hop out of bed,
So eager to start my day.
But times have changed. I ask my mum,
"Can I stay home from school today? "
I find a lot of grounds,
To justify my stance.
I plead, I beg, I frown,
I do a little dance.
"My ears, they ache. My tummy's sore.
"I blow my nose and cough some more.
"What are these spots upon my chest? "
I wheeze. I sneeze. I do my best.
My Mum sits down beside my bed.
"You are not sick." I turn bright red.
I know she hates it when I lie.
She'd understand if she knew why.
So should I tell her of my woes?
And will it change things if she knows?
I fear she'll only make things worse.
If I don't tell her, I think I'll burst.
And so I tell her of the clique.
The girls who say that I'm a "geek".
I tell of giggles,
I talk of their spite,
They cruel sense of humor.
It feels so good to vent.
Although it's so private.
I talk and talk.
My Mum's very quiet.
She says to me gently, "
I'm terribly sorry."
We hug and we cry.
We go over my story.
Together we look at the things we can do.
I'm no longer alone; we have a plan too.
I think I can face being teased and harassed.
With Mum on my side, my power is vast.
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