Imaginary Friends

This is a subject challenge from a poetry group I had. Inspired by working as a custodian at an elementary school one year.

The night light goes out. A kiss on the cheek, and “Good night baby.” I leave the door open a smidge so light still shines in.

On the way out the door, I pet the dog, and lock the door. I make sure the deadbolt is tight.

I head to school after everyone has gone, picking up after children. Garbage, puke, piss, and other random junk clutters these halls. It’s my job to clean all this so the children arrive at school in a safe environment.

The last room I clean is the art room. As I sidestep art projects and spilled glue, I make sure to pick up every broken crayon. I have a special box I put all these crayons in, which I will put together, all pretty, for my little girl for her birthday.

I can’t buy her a private school education. I can’t afford new shoes, or brand new clothing. I can’t afford Lunchables or fruit snacks shaped like Rugrats.

But I can at least give my baby crayons so she can play with her imaginary friends. Playing dress-up with her Happy Meal Barbie dolls.

Drawing pictures of home.

Her puppy

Her father

Her happy family

There is still hope for all those broken, unsharpened crayons.

 

Author's Note

As my first post on this site, I really encourage feedback. I'd like to get away from complements, I need substance.