doesn’t have his pen

makes noises with his desk

 

breaks every mask

wants bathroom every period

 

refuses to read along

pretends he can’t write

 

if you text his mom

puts his head down and cries 

 

kids say shutthefuckup 

every time he speaks

 

you think the same thing

professionally

 

can’t stop listening 

to gangsta rap 

 

ex-students on the block 

now in it for real 

 

despite everything 

the smile rarely leaves his face 

 

he counts on your humanity 

as there isn’t much left