not too special

“you’re not too special”
she said and to my young mind
it must have been true
as she stood sternly in blue
with wooden ruler in hand
which was her habit
and there by the door
you would find a chart
where all our names were listed
and next to each one lined
up in pretty little rows
little gold or silver stars
stretched across the poster-board
and someplace down near
the bottom was my name
with only a couple broken stars
those green and yellow ones
with points bent or missing
for some reason and as if
to belabor her point
she strode across the room
with wooden ruler in hand
and showed just where
i stood in front of all
my classmates, too.