She stands on pointe, her hands in fifth position,
listening to Madam Clair count out the beats till the next step,
Seeing the other girls tiring of the strain,
Ignoring the pain in her own legs,
Fighting the voices in her head that says she’ll never amount to anything good.
That she’ll be just like her uselss mother
Words from her grandmother that she adopted herself and now had trouble letting go of.
Words she learned how to block out because of the maid, Ouma Dienkie,
Lowely in the eyes of others but filled with wisdom and love that she freely gave away,
Remembering her words…..
He sits with the pencil in his hand,
Writing in his final answers to the paper that will give him his degree,
Making sure his answers are correct,
Watching the time tick down slowly till his journey ends here,
Only to begin on a different course.
He blocks out the little boy that couldn’t read and was beaten because of it,
He blocks blocks out the dyslexia that made him stupid,
He blocks out the father that teased him and the mother that didn’t understand him,
And tries to listen to the teacher who gave him hope, books and attention,
Who taught him how to fight his disease with patience.
Remembering his words..
“They only win once you give up.”
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