Middle-School Boy
by Matthew King
March 7, 2007
He fights over a blue pen,
covers his face with sticky notes
or puts them on another's back.
While the teacher talks
he snickers to his neighbor
or whispers and laughs
when the term "homo erectus"
is mentioned.
Soon he is sprawled in his chair
mouth agape, staring at ceiling
or has head laid on desk
eyes glazed over.
But at home, in his room
he is lost in his solitary
Lego-world.
At night he is scared of the dark.
He may still wet the bed.
Whisper you love him, and his world comes alive.
Speak harshly, and tears sting his eyes.
About the author:
I am a student-teacher, preparing to teach middle or high school English. This poem was written while observing a sixth grade class. Every detail is based on something I observed or overheard.
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