My Days of Birds Singing, Laughter, and Sounds of the Happy, don't come too often. Actually they hardly come at all. "Some kid" is what I am classified as and nothing more. I live in the deep dark depths of the school where I become invisible to society. And to society, I am nothing more but a kid who does averagely well. My Days are just passing on by like a hand moving back and forth in front of the identity of a blind man. My Days are cold, hard, and lonely. My Days are just My Days.