First day, third grade,
New School
Again
Lunchroom isolation and yet
Hundreds of laughing children.
Leaving soon
No point in making friends.
I shove myself between a kid and the wall
He scoots closer to his friends.
Play-do sits on my plate.
Crowded and alone
I eat my fake spaghetti
As the silence eats at
Me.
Zumante Comes.
YOU ARE READING
Zumante Comes
PoetryThis is a collection of poems about my very best friend Zumante. He died of Asthma, so this is my way of honoring him.
