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.
2 thoughts on “A poem: The Leaders”
Very good writing. This is Rick from New Jersey. Have you ever been to a festival in Puerto Rico.
No. Sorry I am so late. I have not been monitoring this blog.