The Things I Notice

Letters From The Back Of The Class

My headphones blew out from trying to drown out the constant gossip of the two blondes in font of me

Now I'm stuck having to listen to every word you people say

I don't care about how he cheated on her after they had sex, or that it was her first time

In fact, all I care about it getting out of this class in twenty minutes

"Abandon all hope" is what someone wrote on my desk in black marker

I guess they're feelin' the struggle too

You told us to write you a poem based on where we thought each of us stood in the class

I sit here everyday and watch you try to get us excited about dumb shit like pronouns and novels about love and death

Sorry, but I wasn't moved by your performance

But now, this is the first time I've been excited to turn something in

It's giving me a chance to be real and honest about high school without getting suspended

Before handing out the assignment, you told us how you use to a 'back of the classroom kid' your freshmen year

You looked at me the whole time you said that

Which is okay I guess, I'm a 'back of the class room kid' too

But is that all I'm ever going to be?

Will I ever be able to break the status quo and become a, dare I say, 'front row kid'?

Due to my tough exterior, I'm not sure everyone would welcome me warmly

But I'm content in the back

It's easier to read other peoples texts and see who they really are

I'm not complaining, the heater is back here and I don't freeze to death in class

But I don't wanna be limited too such a small and forgettable role

Because if you're a 'back of the classroom kid', are you always gonna be that way?

Does that automatically make you a lesser human being once you leave high school?

Like, is 'alone in the break room girl' my next stop?

What I'm trying to say is I guess, is that if I wanna be greater then I am now

I wanna be able to see that open seat in the front row and take it without anybody trying to trip me on the way

Now, I know this isn't much of a poem anymore

But the point of your class is to be real and confident in what you do and what you write

It's kinda like the front row chair issue

I'll get there eventually

But for now, I'll stay in the back

Don't worry, I'm making my way to the front one small step at a time

-

Thinking of leaving this poem on my English teacher's desk with no name. Good or bad?

-TaylorMarie