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Alone
April 2, 2014
The class they are talking
Their whispers float round
I snatch on to one
And savor its sound
Everyone round me
Has something to do
I just sit here alone wishing
I had something too
They’re all making plans
Of what they’ll do together
And the things they have done
That I’ve done, um, never
Yet I’ll let it go on
Just like every class
Sitting here letting them
Think that I’m trash
But I’d rather be trash
In their pot-ruined minds
Than to be one of them
To be one of their kind
© Halsey S., Marblehead, MA
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