My teacher was once a siren
Howling through the town
Her curriculum of doom
Her lightening quizzes
That left each of us alone
Shaking our pencils chewing our knees
When I was ten a boulder
Grazed my head like a hand
Brushing back my hair
So now every moment I hear it
Feels like an emergency of hope
Being rushed to the hospital
Hope laying on a cold table
Hope climbing back up the hill
No comments:
Post a Comment