Ordinary

A little poem I wrote last year about my school life.

9:40 am
I sit silently at my desk, 
soaking up an education,
until vagabond eyes wander.

Raindrops descend from the heavens above,
collide unto the merciless world below.
Speckles of heavenly water crystal
dancing their way down expansive glass windows.

Zone back,
class, schoolwork, the bond of ink to paper
sentences made of words,
words made of letters,
letters made of curving lines.

This life is an affliction,
sit down,
don't talk,
learn learn learn.

I yearn yearn yearn,
to be outside, 
free as the rain,
to touch the heavens and fall 
from the sky.

To break out of this lonely routine,
stand up 
stand up
get up from the desk.
10:10 am
Bell rings,
next desk.

Again, 
daydream,
fall into wanderlust,
feel myself be dragged down 
back into conformity.

Recess

Bitter wind,
nipping away 
at my face and fingers.

Slurs of conversation,
sparks of interest,
extinguished before becoming flames.
Why am I here?

10:40 am

Another lesson,
something different,
still the same,
it's all work now
no play.

12:00 pm

Migration.
Up stairs
down stairs
round stairs 
brown stairs.

Where the hell am I going?

Not just now, 
not just here,
in life?

I'm here

I'm there

I'm everywhere.

12:30 pm

Steadfast stare,
the clock that doesn't move,
that empty desk
less than half a metre away from my chest.
That empty feeling inside my chest,
that doesn't move,
spinning me into fiery distress.

Head down, scribble some words,
look the part,
are you playing it well?

Another page,
another worksheet,
another tick,
Hurrah class work complete.
Have some homework,
wouldn't want you to get some sleep.

Lunch

Laughter
Loud
Boisterous
Everything I cannot kindle.
Dwindling potential,
why can't I fan the flames anymore?

Suppose I'm out of fuel.
Ponder the things
the people
or simply the person
I would rather be.

Unfortunately I'm stuck 
being boring
sad
little old me.

2:45 pm

Mass migration once more,
through the corridor,
Where are you?
Not here, far away.

Old friends,
wish you were here.
Old habits die hard,
my mind questions
where you are?

Tip toe,
under arms,
round I go,
ducking and
dodging and 
diving.

Battle the Minotaur's,
and finish the maze.
Arrive at the next class
in a hopeless daze.

3:00

Almost there
almost done
wait until the bell chimes 
pick up your books; 
run.
Run on home.

Home

Trip though the doorway,
plant face on pillow,
got through another day.
Wasn't easy but you did it.

And now,
now I'll cry,
cry

because I am alone,
despite the fact it's all my fault,
I'll blame God,
or  someone else
for the steps I take
in throwing everything
away.

I am not alive.
'Cause this,
this
just 
ain't 
living.