Different
Going to school when you’re a little different,
it’s not very pleasant; in fact, it’s a bit of a torment.
That first week, inbox full of messages:
“Can I ask you something?”
“I hope you don’t mind me asking.”
After a while, it does get a bit irritating
because you yourself are starting to get confused.
It’s not even the girls because they’re just curious,
but when the lads start asking questions,
that’s when you start trying to pay extra attention in the lesson.
After all is said and done, just try to lay low.
After a while, it becomes the norm,
and you can finally be yourself.
School
School, not just a building,
it’s a concrete cage, twisting and turning
the minds of our youth,
turning opinions of behaviour black and white,
leaving many to toss and turn at night.
It’s not an equal competition;
two words as such don’t go in pairs,
and neither does the thick-headed boy and
the girl whose French braids her hair.
Back to School
I started first year last week,
New uniform, new pens, new books and a pencil case.
I stood at the front of the building
as my heart started to race.
I finished third year yesterday,
Put my bag and all my books away
Soaked in the summer sun
Knowing I’ll be back to school soon again.
Rain
Rain tapped softly on my window late at night
Streetlights blurred into the puddles outside.
I sat awake just listening for a while,
Watching cars pass slowly through the quiet.
Everything felt still except the storm
Like the whole world had stopped to breathe.
Even after the rain began to fade
The smell of it stayed in the air.
Vulnerable
Roses are red
Violets are blue
Vulnerability makes you stronger
So let it come through.