Typing, Hoping, Realizing

You may wonder who I am,

Why I waste my time,

Typing away my feelings,

Hoping that they rhyme,

Why do I do this?
I’ve often asked myself,

I came upon an answer,

I think that I can help.

There’s no way I can confront,

Give you a student’s point of view,

This is all I could think to do,

Scream without a sound,

Fight without a bruise,

Maybe then,

You’ll realize,

We go through stuff too,

Kids come here hiding,

Cowering in a shell,

Hidden in each one,

Is a spark of hope and yearning,

A true desire to be learning,

Oblivious to it’s being,

Some stare at white boards, 

Wondering what they’re seeing,

I guess that I’m just hoping,

That while I’m stuck in hell,

I can at least make a difference,

Give a silent yell,

You can choose to listen,

Or ignore me all the same,

It won’t make a difference,

I will write regardless,

My words you cannot tame.

 

This poem is about: 
Me
My family
My community
My country
Our world

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