A poem: The Leaders

The Leaders

I sit in my rocking chair, re-reading Where the Wild Things Are,

I look at them on the rug below

I wish I were laying down with them

But my legs shake and my mouth moves, and my brain blocks your words

They can hear you. Your stories reach their brains.

Their legs stay still, and they laugh in the right parts.

They get excited, raising their hands when you ask questions

I look at my hands and wonder will one ever rise?

 

They line up for lunch, pushing passed each other to be first

I look at my feet, wondering should I move them

In the noisy hallways, they bump their bodies into each other

I look for you. I look for your hand to hold.

 

Your hand reaches for mine

And now their hands do too

 

Your smile is there, looking back at mine

And now their smiles are too

 

Your love is always there to greet mine

So now their love is too.

 

With you, I belong.

With my friends, I belong.

In Classroom 19, I belong.

 

My smile is my gift to you. My friends are your gift to the world.

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