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.