School Days

The hours spent of boredom
Yellow pencils scrape the graphite letters on the paper

Ideas of tired teachers and old professors
Everything that has been taught to long
Smelly school books with frazzled ideas
Drawings of flowers and hearts in the margins

Dusty corners of the rooms
Unused ones with more than enough desks crushed in
Some kids come to school to get away from home
And when they have to get back on the bus
They regret not running away
Because it will break their mother's heart

But we have to listen
To the tiredness and the graphite scratching across the paper
And the ones who want to run away
Have to deal with it

And the Scribbles in the margins

Will Always Be There.