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Bloody noses had made them friends, but giving sound to the bruised places in their hearts made them brothers.
Willie had left school after the ninth grade. He said there was really nothing more they could teach him. He knew how to read and write and reason. And from here on in, it was all ...
If my brothers saw me writing poems, they’d call me a queer and then it’d be all over school and I’d have to fight my way home every day. You know, most guys think you’re a ...
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