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Literature Text
It’s the easiest thing in the world to stand on a stage,
Lord over us all, superior in everyway,
And say, “Tell a teacher. Someone who you trust.”
Oblivious to the silent undercurrent of whispers in the corridors
That stop when teachers pass
And start when they are gone.
“We care.” He says. “We’ll help you, make it stop.”
Standing in the crowd, I scoff. My reply?
Bullshit.
They are blissfully unaware of the fake smiles and conversations
That start when teachers pass
And stop when they are gone.
They stand, elevated above us, pretending that they care,
But unwilling to walk with us, to see our world.
Only a few dare to lower themselves into the mundane,
To hear the whispers floating around corners
And understand the students
Without ever saying, “I care.”
Lord over us all, superior in everyway,
And say, “Tell a teacher. Someone who you trust.”
Oblivious to the silent undercurrent of whispers in the corridors
That stop when teachers pass
And start when they are gone.
“We care.” He says. “We’ll help you, make it stop.”
Standing in the crowd, I scoff. My reply?
Bullshit.
They are blissfully unaware of the fake smiles and conversations
That start when teachers pass
And stop when they are gone.
They stand, elevated above us, pretending that they care,
But unwilling to walk with us, to see our world.
Only a few dare to lower themselves into the mundane,
To hear the whispers floating around corners
And understand the students
Without ever saying, “I care.”
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This poem just really came from nowhere. Ages ago in biology I said the first line to my teacher while discussing bullying. Then recently I was revising and the bit about the undercurrents in the corridor came to me. I just had this mental image of things floating around the corridors in school, and the poem just built its self on that.
© 2007 - 2024 The-Jedi-Ninja
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