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He always wanted to explain things but no one cared so he drew. sometimes he would draw and it wasnt anything He wanted to carve it in stone, or write it in the sky and it would be only Him and the sky and the thing inside him that needed saying It was after this that he drew a picyure It was a beautiful picture he kept it under his pillow and would let no one see it and it was all of him he would look at it every night and think about it When he started school, he brought it with him like a friend It was funny about school he sat at a square brown desk like all the other square brown desks and his room was a square brown room like all the other rooms and it was tight and close and stiff He hated to hold the pencil and chalk with his arm stiff and his feet flat on the floor STiff With the teacher watching and watching. The teacher came and spoke to him She told him to wear a tie like all the other boys he said he didnt like them, she said it didnt matter! After that they drew and he drew all yellow and it was the way he felt about the morning and it was beautiful the teacher came and smiled at him "What is this?" she said. "Why dont you draw something like Ken's drawing? Isnt that beautiful?" After that his mother bought him a tie and he always drew airplanes and rocket ships like everyone els and he threw away the old pictures and when he lay alone looking at the sky it was big and blue and full of everything but he wasnt anymore he was square inside and brown and his hands where stiff and he was like everyone else and the thing inside him that needed saying didnt need saying anymore it had stopped pushing It was CRUSHED! STIFF! This poem was handed 2 a teacher, by a student who commited suicide 2 weeks later
blazingace93 added this comment 2008-11-25 14:42:42-06:00
thats so sad! but very good
blazingace93 added this comment 2008-11-25 14:42:42-06:00
thats so sad! but very good