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Fear I feel
as I walk the downtown streets.
I’m afraid of them.
Their loud talking
Their different clothing
these ‘owners of the street.’
Their buying and selling
brings ruin to children, teenagers
mothers, fathers
A word stabs
a decision kills
sometimes without thinking, mostly without thinking
I’m afraid of them
The corporate ones in suits.
At the bottom of the swimming pool
The standards didn’t matter
Common Core for all
The same for all
Except when we differentiate
Because we know
The same for all
Isn’t justice
At the bottom of the swimming pool
The standards didn’t matter
Especially to his parents
Watching from the edge
Red flashes reflecting off the ray-bans
Wondering
Had he been a truly happy individual?
Whose dreams had he followed?
Thirteen years down the drain
Battles fought won and lost
An individual learning the same as everyone else
That life is too short because
At the bottom of the swimming pool
The standards didn’t matter
Folking your pocus.
Greetings to my writing group- Michelle, Patty, Diane and Tom. Feel free to start your own WordPress blog and send me the link.
As always, happy writing!
And don’t forget to publish!
S. T. Fleming 