Room 317

You'd think geometry class
would be the last place for self-reflection
And if I understood how to calculate
the midpoint of line T
maybe this wouldn't be happening

Minutes pass
wasted opportunities,
like melting snow
falling leaves
nothing can slow it
The navy plastic chair pains my back

The door opens a crack
Students walk by in a blur
I'll never laugh like them
Walk like them, talk like them

Can x solve it's own problems
I have many of my own
Sitting in the dark
collecting dust
Much like my purple, untouched calculator

Never again will this moment be the same..
Next time,
there will be more problems with x's
to solve
more midpoints to calculate
more hall passerby's to wonder about
You'd think geometry class
would be the last place for self-reflection