Waxed tiled floors
Reflect fluorescent lights
Long and square Lining the ceiling
The door is heavy and brown
A barrier against the too soon-ending hallway
That leads to the 'other world'
I sit in the desk, where the chair is straight and hard
And the two are united
Lazily I stare at the massive sheet of green
With scribbles on it, from a pointless day
Of lessons gained, not lessons learned
My head rests on my hand
And I write, my mind wandering
This, this is home
Where I am loved
And accepted for me
The bell at three o'clock simply brings me to my house.