Billy was once a kid in my grade.
When we were little she would wouldn't go out, not even for the town's parade.
You see, Billy had a speech impediment.
Children would tease her for her words-their abuse became adamant.
The typical abuse taunted her, we eventually stopped talking.
I started writing.
Words became my air.
My breath, My soul, My dare.
It liberated us.
We started talking on the bus;
We started breaking our shell.
Starting practicing our R's and L's.
Nevertheless Billy has her moments, her struggles, her insecurities.
Nonetheless, Billy embraces her impurities.
For that is what makes her human.
Billy is in my grade.
And today she is going to the town's parade.