Another Poem, My Teacher Hates Me

My teacher hates me

First day of class,           a paper is passed

I fill it out,                      with no reason to doubt

So many things to say,   Then it is taken away

Later on a shock, from what my teacher has said,

            In un-exact words she wishes all Novelists dead

My mind spins,               She continues and cheerfully grins

What have I done?,        That she hates me a ton

I took poetry class to become a better writer,

            I don’t want to pick sides or be a fighter

Poems are good, and books are nice

            I ignored and forgot it, until she said it twice

Why is it wrong to tell a story?

            Of heroes and swords, kingdoms and glory

Or haunted houses filled with spirits

            But they are only fiction, no reason to fear it

On the third time I’ve become inspired

            For school I write this, at work I could get fired

But if failure on my poem is bestowed

            Is it from discrimination or has it been earned and owed

And like wise for a grade of A or passing

            Did I deserve it, or is it because of the content, her, reacting?