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sophia Dec 3
piercing eyes
burn straight through me.
i feel exposed
and peeled open,
as my last rational thoughts
drizzle through the gaps
between my fingers
and pile up on the ground
like wet sand.
i take my shaky steps
like the earth is depending on me
to prevent her from quaking.
and as the hands on the clock
reach out to strangle me,
i break a sweat
and try to choke out words.
i fail,
and the judging eyes judge.
the fragile silence is broken by whispers.
anxiety
Johnny walker Aug 21
Done my share of pretending
at school so I would put on my mask and  became the the great pretender In order to avoid any
bullying
Became the classroom clown
quick witty just fooling around almost like an actor taking lots of different challenging
rolls
I was a great pretender and became very good at It so much so It would wind up the bullies to point of
anger
But nothing they could do to hurt me for I had my on fan club to whom I made laugh so they protected
and
as time passed I grew strong learned how to get along able to talk my way out of any heated confrontations for I was truly the great
pretender
EJ Lee Apr 3
Gazing out the window, it’s beautiful outside, letting my mind wandering into the distance daydreaming about the endless possibilities. Then someone slams a ruler on my desk that caught me by surprised I nearly jump out of my chair startled. It was the teacher glaring down at me spitefully.
“Eyes up here, Grace! You need to pay attention!” said the teacher. “Didn’t you hear me? Open your text book to page 300 and keep up!” My classmates started to giggle then the teacher walked back to the front of the classroom, chalk in hand and began to write on the chalkboard, letters that I couldn’t quite make out. The teachers words start to muffle as I try and locate my binder and pencil for notes but then I hear the teacher call my name “Grace” and I look up with fear in my eye hoping she did not just call on me to answer her question.
“Grace could you please come to the front and spell the word ‘BECAUSE’ on the board?” I knew this word but I don’t remember how to spell it. I really hate going to the front of the class because I always make a mistake. I slowly get up from my desk, my hands start to sweat, and the room goes silent as I walked, with my shoes squeaking on the tile floor louder than usual, up to the teacher. I take the chalk from the teacher’s hand. As I begin to write I freeze.
Paralyzed with fear I ask the teacher “I’m sorry, can you repeat the word that you wants me to spell?”
The teacher scoffed at me and even louder said, “The word is, ‘BECAUSE’!” I nodded my head trying to remember but my mind was blank, I remember using my markers to trace out the letters of each word but this one was particularly hard to remember. I started to write B…E…K…then I’m stuck, I start to panic and I write the remaining letters that sounded right A…Z. then I immediately place the chalk down on the teacher’s desk and walk as fast as I could back to my desk. The students all start to roar in laughter, as they know I made a mistake. I look on the board and it reads ‘BEKAZ’ I know its wrong but I don’t have the answer to change it.
The teacher, unamused by the students stares at the chalk board then turns and looks straight at me as says “Grace, you will not go outside for recess instead, you will sit in the beanbag and read, if I see you slacking off, you will be tracing out your letters for the spelling test that is this Friday.” After her remark the bell rang and it was time for lunch.
A functional narrative of the reality of a child with dyslexia in a classroom with a teacher that does not understand there student
Arisa Mar 12
i sit here in this classroom,

detached.

away from the others
while the tutor's voice blends into the walls
and i fail to melt into it with others' ears.
I wish I could focus in class.
Arisa Mar 7
Exam room.
Air as still as dead,
Then I hear it:
Pencil.
R o l l i n g off the edg
e -
But the person catches it just in time.

I sigh in relief.
Exams need to die.
Arisa Mar 2
The mist that leaves the vapour in the morn
Crafts fragile drops of aqua,
Gently glides down the windows
Of an empty classroom.

Crisp cold enters from rough winter winds,
The doors would shut themselves,
As a gentle shower of rain would burst from the big grey blanket
That carpeted the skies.

Rain would fall.
Pitter
Patter,
Pitter,
Patter,
Upon the tin roof.

As I watched more of those soft, small orbs of water stream down the chilled glass.
I arrived too early to class one morning, and was left alone to enjoy the rain.
annh Dec 2018
Morning is not my time of day,
That's when concepts float away,
Across the garden, down the lane,
Through the gate at Hester Payne's.

Teacher's pet and top pass,
Hester sits eyes front in class,
With rubbers straight and pencils sharp,
A clean page ready to start.

I, of course, am running late,
Hair a-fly, face scrubbed in haste.
Chasing my thoughts, I see them now,
Bouncing ahead: ’Where? Why? How?’

Miss Armitage says I can do better,
Just follow her lead to the letter.
She raps twice: ’Attention, please!’
We all fall quiet - three sniffs, one sneeze.

’Now settle down, it's time to count.’
Braids and partings turn around
To face the board and I'm up first.
Chalk in hand, could things get worse?

In front of Danny, in front of Sue,
In front of Seamus. And you know who?
Three plus three, then five times six,
Square root of nine, just take your pick.

Six and...thirty...three, I'm sure.
Or was that seven? Maybe four.
My mouth goes dry, I stare and blink.
Lord knows, I find it hard to think.

Up the corridor, down the stairs,
Right then left, my thoughts in pairs,
Sift and swirl and giddy about.
’Behave yourself, now cut that out!’

’Come back here, where you belong.
Don't wonder off! Don't make me wrong!’

I scratch my answers, the class is aghast,
It seems I've something right at last.

Hester sighs, as glum as can be,
For today...this morning...for everyone to see,
My thoughts have stuck with me.
Children's verse.
Smriti Gupta Dec 2018
Unknown to every one we settled down,
All had entered from the same door brown.
Some smiled while the others cried,
All I did was to look at the blackboard wide.

Within a few days we learned to be glad.
We all enjoyed but still some were sad.
Everyone started making new friends,
All because of boredom and lends.

Ma'am Mala who taught us everythng was so sweet.
In the lunch break the view of the class wasn't so neat !
I selected the set of humans I loved,
Within them one was my dove.

We grew up together playing, enjoying, dancing and crying...
Our confined brains dealing with the heart's dying.
From watching dragon tales with breakfast,
We moved to studying till 12 past

Abuses we said day and night,
But they never made us fight...
Java codes were too long to understand,
But friend's story always continued with another 'and'.

All these moments don't need a backup,
Somwhere between ABC & Aey! BC we all GREW UP.
Dani Nov 2018
Whiteboard and students, classroom with desks
Who knew, here could be something so grotesque
Lit up bright, full of supplies
Art and math, science goggles to protect your eyes
Who knew this is where fear could live
Shouldn’t it be a laugh and a love note to give
Wouldn’t it be nice if this was a sacred place
Could you imagine if schools were all safe
Instead of brightly lit fluorescent lights  
We see gun fire in the halls and fist fights
Worst of all we see children dead
In the ground we put to rest their head
Bully killed bully, maybe it was someone mean
Becoming the bully is worse! LISTEN to me this is keen
Love your neighbors, love your friends
End this hatred, or it will be all our ends
Speak love or do not speak at all
Believe in yourself, and believe in others …
That is all
. . .
No!! There is so much more to be said
This isn’t working, our kids still wind up dead
What needs to change, what can be done
To love your daughter and son?
Yes of course, love is important
But we need change, can we be absorbent?
To soak up our mistakes and our flaws
Turn it around look at what's wrong, take pause
Address the real issues, we don’t need more pep talks
We need a reconstruction, all the way down to the bed rocks
Zukiswa Mvunguse Nov 2018
When boredom strikes
Jaws open wide in oscitancy
Eyelids flutter once, twice, thrice...
Mouth sets into an unattractive line
And the mind turns to mush
Lulled by the lecturer's monotonous voice
Into slumber's welcoming embrace.
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