About my feelings of towards dyslexia when I was growing up.
My head started to pound.
My fingers started to twist,
round and round.
My breathing grew faster,
it made a peculiar sound.
My teacher pointed,
straight at me.
Will you read for me.
Her words were,
loud and clear.
With all eye’s on me,
they started to,
leer and snigger.
The tears on my,
lashes grew bigger,
I tried so hard not,
to blink,
but they were on,
the brink.
My face grew,
red and hot.
Until my teacher,
shouted stop.
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