Poem by Natalie Holmes
When class draws to an end,
A tangible feeling flows through the students.
People reach for their bags
And books
And papers.
The initial reachers are joined
As the urgency in the movements
Encompasses the whole room.
The teacher stands,
Finishing his or her last sentence,
Knowing little time remains
To captivate the interest of the
Restless souls.
Sprawled before them,
They are already checked out and in journey mode.
Like animals, trained and timed,
The students stand as the bell rings
And follow the same route to the same class.
Organized, orderly, scheduled.
Shockingly tame with a simple system
Of bells, rooms, and hallways.
