Every day as i tug my bags
onto the subway
i know what is inside my backpack
will sit there all night as i dance
and in the morning
when Ms. asks who has their homework
my hand will rest on my desk
my piers will keep their hands raised high
over their heads.
I am tired in math class
my eyes flutter slowly shut
they bolt open when i hear my name
"i'm sorry" I recite
a routine phrase
the classroom blurs as it clears
my head pounds
and i flutter away again.
Bruno and Mario
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