Straight A’s
A bright, wide smile on my shining face.
A vivid red satchel weighed like bricks on my shoulder.
A building of expectation, friendship and terror.
A blurred year of blissful unawareness.
A shroud of wild webbed willow encasing me.
A muffled giggle of the cackling crow.
A warm breeze, gently playing about my face.
An unnerving shriek of the whistle cutting through the dreamlike haze.
A new teacher, a new class, a new chapter.
A uniform too small, too tight.
A talk too awkward to question.
A life too strange to be real.
A day that should have never come.
A feeling that should have never been.
A song that should never be sung.
A play with a troubling final scene.
by G Scoular