Schoolboy
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Schoolboy
Can this be school? So dark and worn
a backless seat, walls of scorn.
Someone said, “We need a school.
This cement relic here will do.”
There sits a boy who’s come to learn.
See his human interest yearn.
He must write on several sheets.
The desk tells its own tale beneath.
By the naked light of day
the schoolboy makes his troubled way
among the dust and cobwebs here
with momentary gunfire near.
A busy mind and active arm
quiet protection from alarm
a child of turmoil and of woe
in sponsored clothes by UNESCO.
Where are the crayons, books and pens?
When does he share a task with friends?
Are there computers in his reach?
Does the adult know how to teach?
Will he have a nice warm meal?
What keeps up his schoolboy zeal?
Can he tell Mom what he knows?
Can she see what school bestows?
So, here’s to schoolboy, struggling hard
against the overwhelming odds
to break through to his excellence
with swagger and self-confidence.
In this place not fit to be
he will work most diligently
and in time get educated
by some teacher, dedicated.
11/7/17
Photostory - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Eve Roper
Copyright © Janis Medders Tobechi | Year Posted 2017
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