Dear Mr. Kursman

In eighth grade, I was new and alone.

The best part of my school day was when I got to go home.

There were things about me that most teachers didn’t approve of,

Like the scars on my arms and the girl I couldn’t help but love.

From the very first day you were a light for me

You saw things in me that I thought no one would ever see.

You taught me to fight back, to rebel, to never stand down

You taught me I wasn’t alone, even when no one was around

You taught me mental illness isn’t something that should bring shame

You taught me it was okay to be different; in the end, we’re all the same.

It’s been four years now and I owe the fact that I’m still here to you

I thought my wings were broken, but thanks to you, I flew.


This poem is about: 
My community
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 


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