Just a Kit Kat

Class average is a C minus.

Who has the right to tell us we are worthless?

Teachers.

Forgot to turn in the assignment.

Who has the right to tell me to get my crap together?

Teachers.

Threw a pencil at the this guy I have a crush on in my class.

Who has the right to give me detention for flirting?

Teachers.

In some way or another,

teachers have the right

to tell me 

that I am:

A flirtatious, worthless, piece of

(insert favorite candy bar here).

This is my life.

I can be a flirty Kit Kat 

that fell on the floor,

if I want to be.

But who wants to be that?

A moldy, 

hair-ball-covered,

lint invested,

partically eaten

Kit Kat.

There is more to me than that.

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