Pl𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘤 𝘸𝘳𝘢𝘱 𝘤𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘮𝘺 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳𝘵𝘪𝘱𝘴
as I opened the plastic bag once
protecting my sandwich made to my liking.
Perfectly shaped triangles,
then my animals gam-crackers,
and juice box that was apple juice.
We all shared one huge metal table in
the pure clean whiteness of the lunchroom,
kids screaming, throwing food,
making fart noises and other things.
Kindergarten through third grade.
Calmly I sat witnessing my peers talk to each other and most of them talking
to me,
but I say; don't you see me eating.
Still they pursue lingering on,
I shut my eyes tuning the chaos out,
until my seat below me buckles.
I couldn't help but be curious,
so I looked up it was the boy who
exchanges words with me in class.
Howdy! said by him.
Jeremiah Louise McCoy who prefers to be called Jerry
had a lunch as well,
Jerry smacked loudly while eating his peanutbutter and jelly sandwich.
He said between chews:
I'll trade you my chips
for your gram-crackers.
I thought about it then we made a deal
I have him my crackers and he gave me his chips.
Both of us exchanged a lot more
words then we did
in the classroom.
Now it was recess
the playground was vivid filled with
swings,
slides,
seesaws,
many other things.
Myself and red head
sat on the rusting,
grey swings.
He's bold enough to rock back
in forth but I wasn't up for that,
so I moved very little
Gripping on the metal that held the
leather seats up.
We talk about cartoons, and how much we disliked math
and absolutely loved gym.
Fingers course through his curly hair
our laughter must've interest others because a blonde girl with turquoise eyes named Emma and a boy named Jacob that obtain grey eyes came up to us.
Want to play tag?They both
ask us and we nod.
During the game
Jerry was the one it.
Something caught my eye, behind a metaled gate was bombarded with trees blocking a white figure but not fully.
If I remember correctly I believe it was a tiny townhouse. Move even closer to the gate you'll see the grey murky windows,
the azaleas blossoming in the bushes,
the two golden doors with yellow
handles,
a cobblestone pathway.
Everything around me faded,
including the sound of shoes rapidly
on the concrete.
Shouting out their new friends names.
All my senses were in one place.
And that was the townhouse hiding
in the color of green tress.
The door that was closed
crept open though I didn't see not one face.
Anxious. I was anxious yet intrigued my brain was telling me: Move. Step away before you'll witness something you're not supposed to.
Still...
I couldn't move a muscle
a furious battle between my head and my body roamed on.
Erratic heartbeats of mine pound the sound sending up to my ears.
Behind that secretly open door was a girl peering over the door, her eyes
studying whatever she was scanning for
maybe safety? Or was she playing hide in seek? Or what something else?
So many questions I have flooded my mind like a tsunami filling a city.
She wore a straw hat over her head
turning her head back into the house.
She must be speaking to someone...I thought
Gladly she didn't stare my way,
a spine curling loud BANG of a
gun goes off and I
fall back onto the ground.
Maybe having pebbles deep into
my palm,
screams.
Terrifying nightmare screams.
Then came the smell of flame,
Once I saw a townhouse
dark burns of wood,
They flood out, girls running in their white dresses some holding children, boys running some falling unable to move,
Red staining their brown clothes.
Men with rifles arming at them, taking them down.
Men with hounds letting the dogs get them.
I had to move but I couldn't
the smoke melting my lungs
turning my brain to mush.
There was a girl our eyes connected,
brown met green she was hiding but her eyes widen in fear because of me.
Tears fall down her checks. Softly I heard her cry out...
Please....please....
My body was suddenly forced up onto someone's shoulders my stomach,
deep into their shoulder definitely it was a male.
BANG! BANG! BOOM!
The adults were rushing students back into the school for
our safety.
Either way I'm still gonna be in trouble
if this man saw me,
viewing something I shouldn't
witnessing the harshness.
YOU ARE READING
we all bleed red
Thơ ca"I was born on June 22nd, 1947 on the wet warm soil of Anniston, Alabama. Where the climate was equivalent to a steaming pot on a stove." ... "Alabama a South state that was segregated while I was being called a gentleman..." ... "You have to break...
