This is for the kids who lack school supplies.

The ones with late assignments ripping free of their three ring prison,



escaping F’s in full career around the parking lot.









I see you.










Face glued to the desk,
shoe laces snaking around on the harsh pale linoleum,

all those thin wisps of hair being thrown straight up with a tempest of hot breath and academic cacophonies at the front of the room,



and I can see your headphones bouncing with the bass drum.

I see the way you gnaw your sleeves when “Miss” asks for a homework check.

And I want to tell you how much it means.

I see it too,


Stale print and cracked lips. Chalk Board dust and rotten apples.
Something about fluorescent lights and cinder walls stains everything gray.

It gets overwhelming,

but its refreshing to see that you and I are on the same page; Page 1.
With eraser shavings scampering over shattered doodles of Bill Cosby and poorly etched flower petals,
peeking around brain matter ooze at the multiple choice wasteland.






Do you ever get sick when teachers try to avoid eye contact?




They probably think we’re just stupid, or even lazy.










GOD,
I wish I could show them that you and I learn just as much as the students that own glue sticks, only different subject matter.

I wish I could tell them.

I wish I could teach them; life isn’t pass or fail, true or false, or challenge/defend.

Life is about doodles and bass drum.