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By Anonymous

   Teacher

Out the window, I hear the noises of the inner city.
I turn my glance to the figure, softly speaking at the front
of the room.
I stare upon that face, as so many before. Inquiring,
listening, loving, needing.
I can see it all upon that face. The joy, the hope, the pain,
the fury.
Those eyes stare upon my face, as they have to so many before.
Needing, lost, ignorant, forgotten.
Through the years, the many innocent, the many young.
In pain, that face has witnessed, those eyes have seen.
Evil overcome innocence.

by J. N., Bridgeport, CT



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