Tick-Talk This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine.

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   Slightly larger was his head,

shortly literally was his neck,

and larger than life was his hungry hair-line.

He was Milton.

Milt for short.

To aunts he was rosy cheeks to pinch,

to bullies he was four eyes to break,

and to Momma he was a sensitive boy.

But always he felt different,

a Floyd of freaks, a Dwayne of dorks,

and a Leroy of look-out peaks.

Still the clock talked,

and time rolled with Alice's White Rabbit.

Financially he thrived

where physically he had plumped.

Shavers buzzed where flannel covers gambled.

He was a 33-year-old banking executive;

owner of a cherry red Corvette

who called Florida once a week for

updates on the best blue-haired buffets.

Yet, behind the Pearl Vision glasses

and Giorgio Armani suit,

a little boy of six peeked out and shouted,

"No!"




This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.






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