Bell rings: four thirty;
Cold, water-fountain sunlight
finds me all alone.
Alone amid a
sea of people, I breathe the
salty breeze: spent youth.
Under somber oaks
I sit, my heart ripe with pain.
Strong oaks also cry.
Leaf whispers in wind:
time elapses pain; it is
powerless to cure it.
Teacher sits; student
waits for bus that will not come.
Student learns all things.
Eyes heavy sleepy,
hours upon hours fly away,
full moon, cold, cold winds.
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