Walk down halls, books clutched against your chest like an infant,

breathing slowly, quietly, look straight ahead.

look down, and they look down on you,

look up, and they look odd at you,

look straight ahead.

Your mind is traveling beyond the limits of their imagination,

you see a world outside linoleum floors and fluorescent lights,

to them this is a highpoint,

to you, it is a low point,

look straight ahead.

And those that stray, so little, like a curious child who wanders from a comfort of a parent,

find themselves lost,

of left,

or gone

look straight ahead.

and in the shallow quarries of lockers, that hide secrets and things we won’t admit to wanting,

there is the truth,

behind a calculus book and tattered backpack,

just look straight ahead.

look straight ahead,

down the hall, they tell you,

just to your left

straight ahead.