Free To Be Adrift

He stretches, scratches his scalp,
Scowls as if under a spell,
Dim as a fool, walks to school,
In time for those early bells,

He walks the noisy hallway,
Dares not stop to say hello,
Lest naughty he'll be to miss a class,
And reported as a no-show.

He peers about long lost,
Feels his attention span taper,
Fighting against poetic dreams,
He mangles his books and paper.

Loitering 'til the latter of day,
Laughter at the bell, his prize,
He bursts free to be adrift,
Like a cloud of butterflies.

FOLDER

My Poetry  (E) Come as you are. #2034965 by Rhychus