It's Monday morning at 7:01.
You’re still half asleep; your homework’s half done.
Your shower is cold; your oatmeal’s dry.
Your mother forgets to kiss you good-bye.
You’re walking to school; it’s thirty degrees.
Your fingers won’t work; your toes and ears freeze.
Your zipper is stuck; your left sneaker squeaks.
Your backpack strap snaps; your soup thermos leaks.
You slip on school steps; you trip in the hall.
The toilet floods in the bathroom stall.
The gym door is locked; library’s the same.
The principal greets you by the wrong name.
Your classroom is hot; the coat rack is packed.
Your bean sprout is dead; your clay pot is cracked.
Your pencils are dull; the sharpener jams.
Your fingers get crunched when your desktop slams.
Your math partner’s gone; your neighbor is rude.
Your teacher’s again in a crabby mood.
The morning bell rings; it is 8:01.
Come cozy up to the whiteboard,
Another school day’s begun.
~ Douglass Evans
Darkness sees no fault. No human imperfection as far as genetics are concerned. Shadows cannot lie, for their very being is an absolute image. Reflected only in the presence of light, yet there is no prejudice. The still of night carries with her a sense of peace, every whisper amplified yet each word lost in translations. Oh how long shall the shadows I've so long embraced play garment,cloak to my eternal night?
