Posted in This is real life.

A Haiku for You

New pencils and books,
notebook paper and Kleenex
fill the shopping carts.

Screeching table legs,
stapler hits and printer hums
sound from the classrooms.

Monday arrives fast.
Alarm clocks buzz and no one
hits the snooze button.

Fresh-cut hairstyles,
ironed khakis and polos,
stampede through the halls.

Seven hours on,
the school day ends; teachers stay
to prep tomorrow.

Three days pass on by,
feet get more tired each one,
backs ache and eyes water.

Finally, Friday
when teachers hit happy hour
after work a-sap.

And bask in the glow
of a three-day holiday
before the next week.




We seek to learn, and when academics do not present the answers, we look inside our own beautiful imaginations for the key.

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