My parents and my brother had taught me to see beauty in everyone
I often saw the least beauty in the
coolest
most popular kids
I wasn't popular enough to get elected
But I figured
What the heck
The other half of the class wouldn't have voted for the cool kids
Not if their lives had depended on it
All throughout high school
The cool kids had made them feel
Like beetles
My classmates had discovered the best way to hurt me
not with their fists
but with their words
Sticks and stones can break bones
But words
Can often do worse
They can destroy
The hopeful things
Inside us
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