t r a u m a

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Hello,my babies.
Here's my contribution.

The only traumatic first day I've ever had was waaaaaaaaay back in Kindergarden, which I may have mentioned. I wore a cute pink hat to school when the standard requirment for girls were a scarf, or tudung.
The teacher was really nice about it, she didn't do anything except ask whether I was of mixed blood. When I appeared in school the next day in a different,yet equally adorable hat, however, my teacher snatched the hat off my cute little (did I mention white?) head, smacked me squared in the middle with a ruler. She also made me stand outside until it was recess time, and drilled me on the importance of respecting Muslim laws. I stuck my tongue out at her and got another smack on my head.

Not very traumatic, but I didn't like the fact I had to be told what to do. I was (still am) a brat growing up. Being told to comform was a vaguely matured idea that occured to me around this time, and I still got pissed because I could not let my oh-so sparkling personaliy shine much.

Luckily the teacher switched schools. Or something. I just knew she was gone. HAHA.

I'd write it with a bit of balance- trying to illustrate the very thing most adults tend to overlook.
That children aren't really all that stupid and dim-witted as one might suppose. To write the poem with a childish tone that simply drips with irony because of the maturity displayed by said 5-year-old.

...I think I've confused you guys. O______o

-♥
a n i s.