I have no idea why this short paragraph was called “creative writing” and praised by the damn class teacher back in the days.  If ranting about yourself being a bastard baby is “creative writing,” then what isn’t?

A father is someone special, he is someone who will always
play a big role in his son or daughter’s life.  But as you grow
older you miss that special someone; who not just any man can replace.

By: Lisa Paul

NOTICE: This poem was written by one of my classmate at NYU’s Upward Bound Program for annual yearbook back in summer 2002.