Abina Baveghems

Rookie - 180 Points (25-12-00. / Georgetown, Guyana)

The Classroom - Poem by Abina Baveghems

I'm hot and sweaty,
And there's a burning pain at the pit of my stomach,
Yet I sit in school, beady eyed
Distant from all the noise,
Looking at the wind through the trees,
Haha, he thinks that he's invisible
But I see him beating the helpless leaves,
They cry to the birds for freedom,
The birds turn a blind eye and carry on
Perching from branch to branch,
I guess the birds and the wind have an understanding.

My name was called, drawing me back to class,
A question was asked, I don't know what about,
A burst of laughter aimed at me
Shame, my lifelong friend grabs me
And I think, 'If they only knew what I as looking at',
When the laughter subsided
I returned to the world of nature once again,
Here at least, the birds and the trees don't laugh
And the wind doesn't mind me watching his endless torture towards the leaves.

But just as the leaves are slaves to his abuse,
I am a slave to my classroom,
Oh, how I long for that lunch hour bell
That grants me time away from this place of hell,
I want to be free to play or run around,
But this DAMNED! class is where I am bound,
Helpless to the leaves as the wind continues his beating.

Topic(s) of this poem: class, freedom, nature, school

Form: Abecedarian


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Poem Submitted: Wednesday, November 4, 2015

Poem Edited: Wednesday, November 4, 2015


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