Sunday, April 18, 2010


This piece is from the perspective of a young school going girl. Probably class 3.


I don't want to go home.
Don't send me home.
Miss, please don't send me home.

Have you seen our playground?
The wide green compound?

And breathed freedom
And wrote a poem?

Have you seen our classes?
Cream tables, cherry benches?

And learned numbers
And found answers?

Let me stay some more.
I love it here, Miss.
Please don't send me home.
I'll be good I promise.

My home? Yes, I have one.
But I don't like it there.
It has walls and a roof
But no soil, no air.

And I wish to breathe easy
So I need a little air.
And I wish to feel special
But nobody wants me there.

Your school is easy still
All numbers and play.
Don't send me home
Miss, please let me stay.

Yes Miss, I understand
I cannot stay here.
And you have to close the school
And go home somewhere.

I shall go to the walls.
The only place I can.
And try and grow a little
And then sit and plan.

I shall plan a home, Miss.
And work hard and get.
I shall build a home, Miss.
With bricks of love and sweat.

Soil, air, and freedom which
I shall call my own.
I make me a promise, Miss,
I will have a home.

No comments: