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Oh
“Oh”
The only word heard,
A word used when encountering,
A “privileged” and “rich” kid,
“Oh”
A sense of discomfort,,
Spreading like wildfire
When the word is uttered,
“Oh”
I hurry to change the subject,
But the damage is done,
Wether they know it or not,
“Oh”
One word, sharp as a knife,
Cuts me up inside,
And make me feels,
As if I was in the wrong,
For attending the school,
I’ve always dreamed of,
“Oh”
They think that I am rich,
Or more privileged than the rest,
When in reality,
I really am neither,
“Oh”
I am proud to be Friar,
Wether they like it or not,
What school do you go to?
I ask with a smirk,
“I go to The Prep”
“Oh”
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I am a 15 year old boy and I attend Malvern Prep in Malvern, Pennsylvania. I wrote this piece to bring sight to what goes on in my head and probably some of my classmates heads when someone asks what school we go to. I am very proud to be a Friar, but the belittlement that sometimes follows is uncalled for.