Dark Funnel

I had to write a poem for AP Lang about school, so I wrote a little poem about the hallway between classes...

I walk down the crowded hall.

My boots clunking dully on the floor.

I stare at the ground, swerving here and there.

Loud voices, mashing bodies.

Oh, how the hall is cruel.

All the many faces, blending, blurring.

I cannot tell who is what, what is who.

A 'someone' pushes past.

My shoulder hits the wall.

They turn around. Smack their lips.

The ignorance. Pure idiocy.

I look down, and walk away.

Their voice slices me,

"Fat, ugly, weird, f*g."

I never turn around.

Coward, Coward, COWARD!

I move aside.

I yield.

If my body lay on the ground,

I would do nothing to stop them stepping on me.

Stop. Go. Swerve. Move.

Finally, I reach my class.

A smart class. No ignorance.

Glory.

I sit in my seat and dread the end.

Oh, how the hall is cruel.

Reviews

[Monkey]

very well written, I too felt what Una Xoto mentioned, and also felt that this was a piece not only of a student in the hall, but an outcast, one who is ridiculed and labeled by the majority of your school.
nice write, it was a pleasure to read.

[Una Xoto]

This was really great. I felt the existential angst which was the crowded school hallway. A very nice piece indeed...

[Angel's Lady]

Nicely written! You very perfectly described the halls that I remember, too. Just masses of flesh, like ants on a discarded sandwich at a picnic. PERFECT!

Great write!

[Niko Azazel]

wow! that was.... deep! amazing! awesome! and sadly true. i hate the hallways at my school. you did really great with this. definantly going in my favorites! ^_^