I was 10 years old
I was an excellent reader
Ahead of my age
I could read for hours a day
Books each night
I was sitting in class that day
Reading aloud
And noting looked different to me
In my mind every word was right where it should be
And mid-sentence I heard it
The shrill voice yelling to read it how it was written
But I was reading it how I saw it in my own eyes
Only my eyes were wrong
Mixed matched and all around wrong
And as smart as I might have been
I was never the right kind of smart