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Cat Fiske Apr 2016
To those whom this may concern,

I am 17 years old,
I am a junior,
and I wish to be treated,
with the same respect,
I have given out,
to all faculty,
no matter the location,
I understand that in life,
not everything,
can go your way,
and people,
make mistakes,
it's part of being,
human.
I myself,
have made tons,

the difference between,
my mistakes,
and that of the regions,
is how I know to,
admit my wrong doings.
I have not once,
lied about anything,
I have done wrong,
I have been taught,
to say,
that I made a mistake,
or messed up,
but our region,
has taught me,
that when,
you mess up,
you should lie,
to save your face,
rather then admit,
to your shortcomings,

With that said,
The respect,
that I have,
given to the faculty,
has been nothing but,
respectful,
It's shocking to see,
how this region,
can not return,
that respect back,
to me and,
other students,

However,
I cannot speak,
for other students,
and I will not,
but in my own,
experience,
in the region,
it hurts me to know,
that several faculty members,
think that it's respectful,
to lie through their teeth,
about matters of where on,
the regions side,
the mistakes were made,

It's hard to perceive,
that people are lying,
when you have heard,
more variations,
of incidences and reasoning,
then you can count,
on your hands and feet,
The story you tell,
should be similar,
day to day,
week to week,
but it never is,
and the reasoning behind it,
always places the blame,
on someone else,
As I have learned,
the region likes to push blame,
onto others,
until the blame,
has been moved around,
so much the faculty,
no long know,
the lies or truths,
they have told,

I have tried,
to forget and forgive,
and when I do,
things that still,
do not work out,
or fix themselves,
like I have been promised,

I have sat though classes,
where the faculty,
egg on my classmates,
to throw the same insults,
they say, towards me,
Eventually these classmates do,
because they learn to,
from the educators in the room.

How do you punish kids,
picking on you,
saying things that only,
the faculty members,
in the confidential meetings,
are suppose to know,
When things in,
your confidential meetings,
are shared by participants,
in the meeting,
in an un-confidential setting,
as they ask you questions like,
"why can't you do this",
"why do you need more time?
Everyone else has finished,
stop being slow and get it done,
like everyone else,"
"why can't you do this,
why don't you at lest try,
come on its not that hard,
everyone else can but you,"
this would make you feel bad,
about yourself,
And the faculty,
makes the students,
think it's okay,
to say these thing to me,
like they have done,
many times before.

This is not old news,
because these are things,
that have failed to be addressed.
This is one source of trauma,
I have to keep living though.
I am tired of being,
scared and fearful,
every morning when I try,
to come to school,
because I am hoping,
nothing  bad will happen,
today or the day after,
I am stuck,
in a constant fear,
because of my un-addressed past.
Most days I can not,
ignore these fears,
and I'm lucky,
that its is not as bad,
as it used to be,
but none the less,
it's still a constant struggle.

The fact that I feel,
I can no longer trust,
some of the faculty,
in the building,
because they push me away,
during my times of struggle,
But I would hope,
at a high school level,
they wouldn't try to play me,
for a foolish little kid,
like they used to,

I'm not okay,
with people trying to,
pin me and my mother,
against each other,
The region has made me,
and my mother,
lose our relationship,
for almost a decade,
We finally have started,
to get close again,
but once again,
I see the region,
ripping my family,
to little pieces,

It reminds me,
of my third grade self,
Who didn't understand,
what was wrong with her,
and why she was treated,
so differently,
who was getting yelled at,
in school,
and then got punished,
at home,
because teachers couldn't see,
some things were hard for her,
She would pull her teeth out,
to leave the class,
and if her teeth were not loose,
she pulled her hair out,

I've been scared of school,
since I got there,
I used to *** my pants,
if someone came near me,
and said hello,
I was confused and scared,
of everything,

Yet everyone told me,
how I was stupid, and different,
and then they told me,
I was fine at the same time,
None of this,
makes much sense to me,
but would it make sense,
if it was done to you,
or if you were in my shoes,
No school system,
should tear apart,
someone's family,
and make a child,
traumatized by trying,
to learn,
like everyone else,

I'm getting tired,
of being nice and respectful,
to people who lie to me,
to cover up their own mistakes,
and I've mostly dealt with it,
with a fake smile,
across my face,
But I can no longer,
let people walk all over me,
like I'm dirt,
on the side of the road,
I will not walk away,
until I am treat and granted,
the same respect,
of that of an adult,
I'm old enough,
to know,
I have to respect the faculty,
at the school,
but they seem to have forgotten,
how to do so,

I can only change,
myself and I can not,
change anyone else,
but what I have learned,
from elementary,
through high school,
is that you have to,
cause a problem,
to get anything done,

So if I must,
throw a tantrum,
and scream and yell,
and be disrespectful,
against my own nature,
to get my point across,
so be it,
But I'd rather,
be myself,
and talk to the faculty,
at the school,
person to person,
adult to adult,
It's harder and harder,
to see who I can trust,
when the faculty,
doesn't trust me enough,
to tell me the truth,

I am 17 years old,
and a Junior in high school,
I have never been held back,
so don't treat me,
like a sophomore,
or try to hold my hand,
like I'm five years old,
I have learned to use my voice,
and speak up for myself,
This is why I'm stating,
how I feel,
I'm mature enough,
to see what really works for me,
I know better then any of you,
what works and what doesn't,
You are nothing close to me,
because I am nothing close to you,
The only thing,
that you can do for me,
is truly just treat me how,
I treat you,
so let me use my own voice,
and ask for help,
when its needed,

Please stop assuming,
you know all the answers,
to my problems,
Maybe then,
I will be less anxious,
about being in school,
Or maybe what has been done,
cannot be erased,
and I have to learn,
to deal with it,
on my own.

If that's true,
so be it,
but I'd love it if everyone
could stop trying,
to provoke my anxiety,
It would make me feel happier,
then I have in years,
All I ask of the faculty,
is for the same respect,
I give to you,
Respect is a two way road,
I've given it to you,
now it's your turn.
I sent this in email form and letter form not poem form to my school. they told me "cat if your having a problem, please stop by my office and make an appointment. Have a good weekend"
Torias Apr 2016
17
The universe is trying
To tell me something
Leaving clues for me to find
Hinting something
But I haven't solved the puzzle yet.

4/18/16
Emily Chambers Mar 2016
I turned seventeen today.
It's nothing special.
But I turned seventeen today,
And that's something.

There's a difference between
Seventeen and 17.
They have the same value,
But have a different meaning.

Seventeen is
Your teen years
Coming to an end
But just starting all the same

Seventeen is
Your last year as a child;
The ability to be free
With little responsibility

Seventeen is
Maturity
Adolescents
Personality

But 17 is
Just a number.
It has no real significance.
It's not special.

17 is
Just an age
That's not as important
As 18 and 21.

17 is
Small
Irrelevant
Numerical.

But I turned seventeen today
I turned 17 today
Mature.
Irrelevant.
Though this is a slightly sad poem, I actually had a very good day; I have wonderful friends and a fantastic family that made me feel very special, and I thank them for that.
dan Aug 2015
17
17 years alive
and I can't bear living
in this world
any longer

17 years alive
and I can't even wait a few months
to be 18
and **** myself then

17 years alive
and I can't handle the pressure
******* nonsense spoken
makes me want to chop off my head

17 years alive
and I did nothing to be proud of
wasted 17 year
full of suffering
and the thought of being dead
birthdays are really fun
#17
Arcassin B Jun 2015
By Arcassin Burnham

Life has never been easy,
Thinking I'm queasy,
Sitting in the drug test Line,
In my society,
Depression dancing on my brain,
With dark wavelengths,
Call me the cheapest ******* names,
No one believes in me,
Not even my mom,
But its ignorance taken,
Don't know where my real dad is from,
Wouldn't care if her little heart was aching,
So while in class shaking,
If could feel everybody around me,
Trying to stare through my soul,
I think they'll probably hate me,
As i prove my toughness to these generic ******* that never have ***,
Save the rich kids for later,
Improving all their success,
To soon later live a miserable fate in a place with mammals , snakes and gators,
There is no god if he allows the evils to roam free,
And what ***** the deal with being born sinners,
Either way we're considered mistakes in gods irony,
The Christians failed him anyways but they feel like winners,
Cause they can't go to hell,
I swear you'd surprised,
How hard my life is,
I need a different price,
After 17 years of livin' that's how many ***** I give.
06. 17 Years Of Living - (18 Part 2'mEP)
Arcassin B Jun 2015
By Arcassin Burnham

When you were 11 ,
You were made of stone,
Knowing little Kevin,
And how he walked home alone,
over exaggerating,
Pride too low to determine,
I'm afraid,
Of what growing up has to offer,
And if will cause my anxiety to get worse,
But hopefully not in a herse,
Long enough to lose my mind a often suffer,
Let go my soul,
Begging,
Can feel the pain,
My body aches and I'm getting paranoid,
Of the same ****** up existence,
Cutting slices of my soulless flesh,
Let my soul go,
Momma never lost her love ,
A little bit less,
Guess it comes with age,
To have this much stress.
05. Comes With Age - (18 Part mEP)
Crystal June May 2015
17
17 is such an unsure number.
Not quite 15 but not quite 20.
Not quite anything.
Lumpy, awkward,
Boring, confusing.
17. Is. Such.
An. Unsure. Number.
Ishita Apr 2015
A bit of sunshine
A bit of magic will do
Not a big banquet
Not too many people
Maybe a little privacy
Maybe a little "my time"
For midnight,
Be it your soft kisses
My family,Oh dear!
Not fancy cake surprises
And as I sleep in your arms
May I dream a paradise
Not money,nor hard cash
Mornings be like,
A slight nip in the air
Sunrise from my bedroom
Not zillion missed messages
I want the day,at peace
Like a poet's wish
Simple,chaste,crystal clear
Not fake "Happy Birthdays"
I want the day,
Maybe full of good vibes
Among true people,
Among trustworthy friends
Not mere acquaintances.
As I drove past,
The air,
I want to feel it,
Making my hair dance
I wanna face its coldness
The soft stiffness upon my cheeks
Not mere cigarrate puffs
I cherish a memorable picture
Over trillion pout-faced selfies
Well,all for my birthday,
I want to cut,
This citys' madness
Not just chocolate cakes
Take me far away as you can
To rugged mountains,to blue rivers
Fairytale isnt it,
I want it real
Just the scenario in front of my eyes
Searching for you,
I hope to see you by me,the next time
I wanna blow dandelions
Not just burning candles
I wanna run past the barren fields
Dressed up in florals
Not the dark glittery blacks'
Well,all for my birthday.
I wanna live these moments
Tyind to decode this one day
Not snazzy gifts,nor over-the-top clicks
I want my birthday to be like,
I am just  **17
My birthady has a tottaly different story.Well thats what I feel.
Shadow Knight Apr 2015
At seventeen,
The hardest choice you should have
To make is what clothes you want
To wear,
Or what food you want
To eat;
Not sitting at the edge of your bed
At four in the morning
Considering whether or not
Your existence matters in this world
- (A.)
I do not own this.
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