A Line of Ants


The bell rings,

And so does my head.

This time of year,

I’d rather be dead.

Filed into classrooms,

Like hundreds of worker ants.

With only consideration

For what we have in our pants.


For years I’ve faced hate

Inside and outside the black gate.

So-called friends just stare.

And I have to pretend that I don’t care.


For years I’ve faced those wooden doors,

Confused and rendered to just staring at the floors.

Female or male?

Because to either title I fail.


For years I’ve faced teachers of all kinds.

Afraid to tell them the difference between out and insides.

But what more can I say?

When every day

All I do is sway

With the way of the way

That people tell me to play?


This year I went in,

To take a picture for my closest of kin.

It was at that dreaded school.

And I had decided,

I would not be made a fool.

I stood up to the cameras and eyes and hate.

And told them ‘No.  I will not accept this fate.’

The school board gathered and muttered and sighed

I had won my case

I had presented my side.

A suit I would wear.

Despite the photographers hateful glare.

I’d wear the most genuine of smiles.

Because my soul had walked the miles,

To earn these smiles.


For years I have faced.

The schools inconsiderate hate.

For years I have faced.

The students’ laughter and bait.

For years I was afraid because the school was not better.

For people who did not fit the norm.

To make different people break

And finally grow bitter.

For years I have faced.

The dangers of being trans.

But this year I had had enough.

For I realized.

It was not me with the fault.

But the school who was at fault.


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