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Sitting in the Principal's office to be Questioned
Sitting in the Principal’s Office to be Questioned
(“Bringing my Son to the Police Station to be fingerprinted”)
I stare down at my white turned
brown Nike shoes as they tap
rhythmically on floor.
I turn to look at a family
picture of Principal Howard
and his kids staring right
back at me. My eyes dart to the
poster of red and green
shaped in boxes, the periodic
table. I listen to the conversation
outside the door. I think about my
Mistakes, what I should’ve done.
I feel the sweat drip down my shirt,
then down my spine making my hands
My face heats up getting ready to blow.
I can’t sit still.
I messed up.
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This poem is actually based off a real life situation I was in about two years ago. It was my first time getting in trouble so you can imagine how terrifying that must've been for me. This moment in time stuck with me forever mainly because of the nervous anticipation I felt when waiting in that room for 2 minutes, but felt like 20 minutes.