Bruises

Scratching pencils border along the lines Driving me to prepare for the world We prepare for futures times That have yet to meet our eyes Can the screaming chalk against the board hear that student as he tells his lies. "Yes I am fine, I tripped on the shore of my sandy lake house where I am at home" I watched as he told this lie and another and another To his teacher who accepted it as truth. But truth never did enter his eye when he told all that he had never done. "It was my pet who made these scratches. Accidents do happen." Not to him they don't. But the teacher never realized That my friend was suffering I don't blame her for a lying student did not become from one so prized. "These bruises? No, I like to play sports" Those bruises, he never played sports. I would have told had I known. I could have told that is what I know. I should have told, but I didn't "How could you know?" you ask me now. "He was my brother," I reply. And then the bruises tip off your eye.