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Childhood, Mental Health, Random poetry Add comments

Hi 🙂

I was back in an uncomfortable maths class for today’s selection (courtesy of Textfixer)

 

 

Delight  Push  Evoke  Gate  Rough  Blackout  Pressure  Bird  Odd

 

No doubt they delight

In the barely audible click

As they push my buttons

For the first time each day.

 

They can evoke such raw rage

The minute I step through the gate;

Their rough tongues rasping,

Words all forming serrated edges.

 

Throughout each torturous class,

The mimed mockery and scribed sacrilege;

Me: on the verge of blackout from the pressure,

Despairingly watching a bird wheel out of sight

Above schoolroom rooves.

 

This window is my only sanity:

A link to that odd sense of freedom

I know I’ll experience

When this madness culminates

In paid dues, and worth.

 

 

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