To Meet in a Schoolhouse

September 1, 2009
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I watched him sit with his silence sprawled across his desk,
like the sun's ray gentle spread across the back yard pond,
it held my loving gaze.
With a pen in hand, all sounds were deafened.
I could connect with those deep brown eyes,
within them held a mystery worth adventure.
So content to be.
Even without a name, he fascinated me.
I ached to know the mind behind that mid-class boredom masterpiece.
He wasn't the only one who lacked attentiveness in what we were told was crucial matters.
He, like I, found reality far more prominent in the deepths of blank pages.

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