School of Misery

A packed lunch of sandwiches meant to take away the weariness that comes with going back to a set prison meant to change our lives. Friends are scarce. A definition lost to those I found hardest to trust, whilst burying myself in books, for diaries comfort this soul of mine. Lend me an ear when you want to hear, though most times I bared the heart of a therapist; always there to give notice to the weary. I'd motivate the self in ink, whilst delivering speeches to those around to hear me. Lessons I'd give. Lessons they'd consider, despite their uncertainty that I could teach. Some I'd met in minutes a time, as they would go back to their own group of friends, left to analyze the notion of friendship. A lonely mind, befriends overthinking. 'Til today, all seems to still cloud the mind of I, sometimes I think back to thank the days and sometimes, I give thanks to have finally left. 28 August 2022 'Back to School' Poetry Contest Sponsored by Francine Roberts