Till Monday

It' is Friday.

I hear the bell,

As others gather their things, 

Anxious to leave,

I sit in Silence,

Anxious to stay.

I pat my pockets,

filled with left-over lunch.

My stomach growls with Hope,

for that is tomorrow's brunch.

I walk out,

Some go to practice for

sports too expensive to play.

Some jump in their cars;

Civics, Wrangles, Escalades

I tighten my pack

and throw on my hood.

It is a long walk home,

but now I will have food!

I am home,

I open the door,

and walk to the table.

I must empty my pockets.

I must hide what I am able.

I lock my door

and hide my ration.

It may not be a lot,

But is more than last weekend.

I am already hungry...

Monday is just around the corner.