When I was not chosen
to be schooled in the ways
of the druid, then I knew.
The elders had seen promise
in my poetry, my prescience,
such clear sight in one so young.
I was named as Chief Bard,
and walked in time with druids.
Step – tap. Step – tap. Lungs tight.
A hush that stifled oxygen,
a resonance across centuries.
Now before my kinsmen, bardic cloak
about my shoulders, blood surged
into words. “Dragon. By Bonkers
and the Alien Squad, class 10A.”