First Sorrow 


They told you it’s horrid

They told you it’s wrong

That it’s as if being with livestock

Being with a child

A tiny child

Hoping like a willow






You didn’t plant right

You’re not good enough

You ever do that again I’ll kill you


A woman working


Meets someone


To do something

A child


Small at first

A confession made

To another

The words forsaken

The actions abjured

Told to purge

To cleanse

Like mercury from the brain

Like a tumor in the gut


Why would you decamp?

From this child

Reject this child you have made

You made the choice

You took the actions

Were you raised to hate

Or did you pick it up along your travels

Of breaking your vows

Telling someone that the boy deserved it

To be beat him down

Tied to a fence

In the vastness of Wyoming

Left for dead

When you yourself are a minority

As much as you would love people to believe

That you are white

You are a husk

Of the maize you plant

As empty and astonishing as the Wyoming skyline

Filled with false ideas

From a book

Just a book

You call yourself a Catholic

But you cheat on your wife

You maim the mind of your son

Tampering with predispositions

As you shake and yell

Tell me

That I can’t be gay.

By Danny, age 17









you want words with that?

This summer, The Writers Place hosted Writers’ Blocks, a two-week creative writing workshop where young writers (ages 12-18) honed their craft and created original poetry and prose.  eXpress is where we’ll share that work and news about our young writers with you. Visit the blog Tuesday through Friday for pieces from one of the Writers’ Blocks alumnae, and feel free to comment, share, and like. But please do not republish any work without proper attribution to the writer and The Writers Place. Thank you, and Write On!


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