Run and Run…
Bricks and wood and gates…
Protect me from their mean faces…
Something so simple as a smile…
So hard to find…
My life lies like this…
But between these walls…
Moments of bliss…
Still believe in fairy tales…
True happiness without fail…
For they came out ok…
After just a taste…
Page after page…
But I stare at the clock…
Beg it to please stop…
As my thoughts create shapes…
All weird crooked ways…
All appear all ok…
40 minutes a day…
While the so-called helpers remain away…
Don’t you see my pain…?
Or is that smile I paint…
Tells a story…
Much like the pages…
Authors know the ways…
To convince one of fairy tales…
Perhaps I’ve done the same…
For 40 minutes a day…
I tell this tale…
And walls around agree…
I’m ok…
Silent Scholar 