Observing an elementary class for my education degree was not something I thought I’d find enjoyable, but surprisingly, it’s been a major source of inspiration and general musings for me the past few months. And my takeaway from that is…
…we should all try a little harder to find that inner child.
I mean, little kids are so funny and obnoxious and honest. They always tell it like they see it. They only lie when it amuses them. Like little imps of compressed bluntness and mischief.
And they make great subjects for poetry.
Cell-mates
This little boy’s hair
is spiky,
like his personality.
He swaggers past,
returning a scoff
for my smile.
I’m just another motivational poster
on the wall.
But two minutes later,
his sass banishes him
to the red chair in my corner.
I feel a grudging kinship
to this boy
and the isolated corner we share,
both watching through a screen,
present, but not participating.
Once, many report cards ago,
I was the obnoxious one,
frequenter of that dreaded seat
in the corner.
The evil eye was
my weapon of choice, then,
but by now,
I’ve learned to wear my solitude
like a well-loved sweater,
as a quiet observer,
content in my banishment.
He,
on the other hand,
wears gel-spiked hair
full of frustrations.
And having no pen
with which to graffiti the surface
of his desk,
lets fly his stinging arrows aloud.
No comments:
Post a Comment