By Russell Hodgkinson
The Chief master sergeant
Screams to high heaven
Gimme a break dad
I’m only seven
Most of his anger
Is geared toward my brothers
I run away
hide under the covers
I am a nice kid
Well liked at school
It’s my home where I find
The intense ridicule
My brothers are bullies
They tease with aggression
They call me a sissy
They mock my expression
Football and baseball
I just wasn’t lovin
I secretly longed
for an easy bake oven
What’s wrong with you Rusty
Are you off your rocker?
Know wonder they laugh
and call you “Betty Crocker”!
I found so many ways
To numb all the pain
Creatively searching
To hide secret shame
Just “toughen up”
my mom used to say
But all that I heard
was that “you’re not okay”
My brothers are rough & tough
So insane
I’ll show them all
When I jump from a plane