I sit in this class

I await for the last

bell, constant ticking

of the clock

I can hear their thoughts

generating hate

the pulsing of fear

they only want

to be the same

I smell the trees

outside the doors

as I await for

the last bell

I breathe their

anxieties of

being different

I touch the coarse

strains on my cheek

as the clock ticks

I can feel their

hearts sinking deeper

my eye catches

the small hand as it

changes while I can

see their screams

the bell sings

“Be happy”

the gazes floor

me, can’t they see

I say what I mean