Impression, Classroom.

Shoes worn by angry feet scuff up mirror floors,

and white paper faces with blue lines 

look down to see nothing reflected back 

but searing lights and

ceiling tiles that would be so easy to claw through 

and climb up out of

if not for the camera 

sitting behind that front desk

with her finger to our lips.

 

Walls peel and whiteboards 

squeak as marker fumes 

waft down our eyes and noses

to put our sighing lungs to sleep.

wph

VT

17 years old

More by wph

  • Simon Peter

    I will tell you what I remember from high school, and I will tell you how you can follow in my sinful and lowly footsteps, that your blood might be as holy as mine. 

  • Poetry

    By wph

    Cameron Winter

    1)

    I think that when he looks at pianos, 

    The keys are stained and worn in 

    With grooves and dents,

    In the shapes of his fingerprints,