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The Classroom
In my mind as a teenager,
A wise young person,
Experienced of the school system,
And already alert to the morning bell,
In a place where the white pale walls surround me,
While the black chalkboard stares with no emotion,
And I am sitting ready for the same typical day.
But this time my mind wanders off,
To my past,
A trip to Hawaii,
Where the palm trees touch the sky,
Sun shining bright,
And birds trill like the flute.
The scene seemed so vibrant and comforting.
So different from the classroom I am sitting in right now,
Where the heat runs but makes hissing sounds,
And the fluorescent lights dim the room but continuously sway back and froth.
The clock in the corer flashes its bright gold hands as it ticks,
5 minutes until class,
And I am just sitting there with my head on my hand.
From a distance I must have looked like a lonely flower in the clear midst of the savanna with all those desks lined up.
Yet, all the fond memories now seem shallow,
And many of which drowned away.
I grab a sunflower plat sitting lonely in the corner, and place it in front of me. The Sweet aroma flows into my nostrils,
Along with the sensation that I am on vacation once again.
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