The Fridge

Papers and pictures cover the fridge, 

stuck to the surface by magnets we probably got at goodwill or Walmart. 

A-plus's and those photo strips you can get at the mall, 

Book reports and essays written last fall. 

 

It filled me with pride when my works were displayed. 

An honor, a right, something that told me i was worth something.

The pictures of me with my friends having fun, 

A picture of when my freshman year had begun

 

I stopped by the fridge this morning

All I had wanted was some form of snack

I looked for my pictures, or my classwork, or anything. 

Anything to make me feel like I had a place here

I searched and I searched, praying something would appear

 

My pictures are gone. My assignments, too.

Thrown in the recycling bin, cast out, they're as worthless as I. 

My siblings' work is still up, photos of them smiling hung up with care. 

I hardly exist. I'm not on the fridge, not anywhere.