Mrs. Harbold handed back my paper with a grim look on her face. I raised my eyebrow as I took it from her. Looking at the grade I was given, my eyes popped wide.
8 out of 15? How do you get 8 out of 15 on a free verse poetry assignment?! I thought, outraged.
"I'm sorry, Macayle, but it just didn't flow. Nothing you said had any feeling. I couldn't bring myself to enjoy it, no matter how hard I tried."
My eyes just continued to blink. There was nothing else I could do, was there? Attack her, maybe, but what good would that do? Sitting there in disbelief was probably my best bet. She's just crazy. I mean, it's one thing to mention it didn't flow; that is an important factor in all poetry. But to say it had no feeling; who does she think she is? It had feeling for me, and isn't that the point of poetry? It's the author's view of the world, or aspect of it, and how he or she feels.
Where does she get off saying I have no feeling?
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